


Now I See (The Colours of You and Me)

by daftmunky



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Civilian!Fitz, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gen, OOC, One Night Stands, SHIELD!Jemma, Sexual Content, Smut, Strangers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3473357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daftmunky/pseuds/daftmunky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She came in like an explosion of colour.</p><p>All he had wanted on that miserable day was to drink his scotch in peace. And then in she came. But he couldn't say it was an afternoon wasted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I See (The Colours of You and Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! This is my first time publishing on AO3, so please be gentle with me! I'm also over on FFN, but I won't post this there. At least not for now.
> 
> So this is my first time writing and publishing FitzSimmons smut.... or any kind of smut, being completely honest. I don't think it's bad per se. In fact, I'm rather proud of it, but if you don't agree please let me know what I could improve on! It was a lot of fun to write, so I'd like to be able to do more of these and improve :)
> 
> Just so you know, I'm a Brit that's been brought up in New Zealand, with a heavy American influence happening through media exposure, so I may be a little all over the place with slang, references, etc, but I am mostly trying to use (and succeeding, I think!) the British for things, although I do apologise if I slip.
> 
> Jemma's Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/colour_in_storm/set?id=150916796
> 
> Fitz's Outfit: http://www.polyvore.com/day_like_no_other/set?id=150916881
> 
> By the way, it's pretty self explanatory, but for those who are unaware, 'sassenach' is English person, or an outsider in Scotland, and likewise a 'Jock' is a Scotsman.
> 
> Happy Reading! x

She came in like an explosion of colour.

 

The bar was dim, even in the middle of the day, the lights a soft glow, just enough to alleviate the shadows. Except for in his corner, Fitz had made sure of that. But the woman who came tumbling in, accompanied by a gust of wind that had her hair flying and tangling about her head in a halo. The most eye catching thing about her should have been the canary yellow rain coat, but it wasn't. What did catch his eye was her face. Her nose was red, indicating that it had probably only got colder from when he was last outside. Her lips were a particularly attractive shade of peach, the slight shine telling him it wasn't all natural. Other than that she appeared to be make up free. He assumed that she wasn't (he hadn't met a woman since he was entering university for the first time at 16 that didn't wear makeup).

 

As she crossed the bar, the chunky heels of her boots clunking on the flagstaff floor, she pulled her coat off.

 

“God! It's blowing a hoolie out there!” Her accent was sweet. Definitely English, but he had no clue where from. He told himself that that's why he continued to eavesdrop on her conversation with the bar keep. “A pint of cider, please. Whatever you have on tap.”

 

“We can do it warm for you, love, if you want?”

 

“That would be heaven, thank you.” Her smile was brighter than her coat (a feat he didn't think was possible). The striped shirt was loose, but he thought it suited her. She looked comfortable, natural, _beautiful_. She was nothing like the women he saw on a daily basis at work. They were always dressed up, their faces painted, and somehow they mostly managed to straddle the line between being professional and completely ridiculous.

 

 _But you don't have to put up with that anymore_ , he thought bitterly, slamming back another dram of the whiskey he had been nursing for the last two hours.

 

“Another one, chief?” The barkeep was addressing him in his corner now, drawing the attention of the beautiful woman.

 

“Jus' bring me the bottle.”

 

The barkeep looked dubious, but did as requested, depositing an open bottle of Canadian Club on the counter in front of him.

 

“Now, what could possibly be more cliché than a Scotsman sitting alone in a dark corner of a bar, brooding, drinking whiskey?” The woman was addressing him directly now, and he didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse.

 

“A Sassenach commenting on it.” He bit out. He didn't mean to be rude; it was his default setting, and the slang slipped out. A moment after he said it, he closed his eyes and sighed.

 

“And here I was trying to keep things civil.” Her tone somehow managed to be both disapproving, and amused. Maybe it was just her accent.

 

“Sorry. Bad day.”

 

“It's okay.”

 

He opened his eyes as he felt movement next to him. Apparently she had taken his insult as invitation to sit with him.

         

“You know, I haven't been called a Sassenach in quite some time.”

 

Her perfect pronunciation of the term took him by surprise, as almost everything about her had since she had tumbled in. As beautiful and cheerful as she was, he really didn't want to deal with company right now. Hoping she would get the message she had obviously missed with his terse attitude and bottle of whiskey, he didn't reply. Instead, he poured himself another two fingers and sipped at it. The barkeep came over and gave the Brit a handle filled with steaming cider and a cinnamon stick, and put a large jug in front of her.

 

“Should stay warm for a while.”

 

“Oh, thank you! How much do I owe you?” She asked, shifting her weight to retrieve her money from the back pocket of her jeans. As she moved, she inadvertently leant against Fitz's side and he caught a whiff of something floral. It wasn't cloying as most perfumes were, but subtle.

 

“You already paid, Miss.” The barkeep was definitely flirting now. Fitz had thought that he had been earlier, but had been more focused on the Brit than the American serving her. He hovered now, choosing to stand close to their corner of the bar than at the other – empty - end, where he would have to keep travelling to to deposit the glasses he was cleaning.

 

“No, I paid for a pint. Not a jug.” Fitz was surprised at her insistence. In his experience it wasn't common for anyone to turn down free drinks, especially someone his – well, their, if he had to hazard a guess – age.

 

“Miss, it's really not -”

 

“Listen, tell me how much I owe, or I will just pay a hundred dollars.”

 

That made Fitz laugh.  There was no way she had a hundred dollars to spare. _He_ didn't have a hundred to spare, and he'd been in well-payed employment for the last three years without spending more than was necessary.

 

“Miss, it's-”

 

“Hundred dollars it is.” A bill was slipped onto the bench. The barkeep flushed, and mumbled something so quietly that the woman asked him to repeat.

 

“$20.”

 

“Then take the bill and put the jock's whiskey on it, too.”

 

“Sassenach, I can pay for my own damn poison.” He growled. There was no way he would be accepting charity from her.

 

“Shut it, Jock. You can pay me back for it later.”

 

Now _that_ was forward. _And incredibly attractive_ , his traitorous brain decided to add.

 

“Wha' makes you think we'll be havin' a later?” He couldn't deny that she'd piqued his interest.

 

“Because I recognise the look in your eye. You're determined to deny everything. You said you've had a bad day. Well, I've had a fairly decent day and I want to be able to make you're day better. And I reckon that paying your tab is a good start.”

 

“A good star’?” He hated that she was getting to him, but at the same time he was completely helpless to her tenacious probing.

 

“Yes ‘start’.” She said primly, taking a swig of her cider. He noticed the way her eye lids lowered as she tasted the warm liquid and the little, content humming noise she made. "And don’t be obtuse. You seem like a fairly intelligent guy so don’t insult either of us. Now, are you going to let me pay and see what happens, or are you going to continue to sulk and leave alone?”

 

He bristled when she said ‘fairly intelligent’. He was more than ‘ _fairly_ intelligent’. In fact, he was a lot intelligent (and he couldn’t bring himself to care that that was a self-contradicting thought). He huffed a breath, taking a moment to play out his options in his head. He could continue to drink and leave alone, as she’d said. If that was the case he could guarantee that he would indeed drink most of - if not the whole of – the bottle, stumble back to his cold, empty studio above the art gallery a few blocks away, and be in an even fouler mood than he had been before the yellow hurricane blew in. Or… he could finish his drink while she finished her cider, and leave with her and have what would probably be a fantastic evening before heading back to his cold, empty studio above the art gallery a few blocks away in a _much_ better mood than he had been.

 

“Interested,” he finally said, lifting his tumbler to his lips, “But I am going to finish my whiskey.”

 

“Fine by me. I'm going to finish my cider.”

 

“We doin’ names?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. I don't think I need yours, in particular. I think Jocks fine.”

 

“Alrigh' then, Sassenach.”

 

Silence descended on them. It was fine. Better than fine. He had no idea what had just happened. One moment he was drinking alone, wallowing in the fact that he was just fired from his job - a job that he had basically created for himself by the way - because the company wanted to ‘take things in a different direction.’

 

“So, what brings you to a dingy bar on a Tuesday afternoon to drink a bottle of whiskeyalone, Jock?”

 

“I said. Bad day.”

 

“Exactly, bad day. That's not exactly an explanation.”

 

“Why does there have t' be an explanation? Cannae have a bad day?”

 

“Sure, you can have a bad day. But there's always a reason you have a bad day, so what's the reason?”

 

“Ye know, you're a piece o' work.” He said with no particular heat behind his word. “If ye really mus' know, I was fired today.”

 

“Oh, that's tough.” She didn't try to comfort him, didn't reach for him at all. Before he knew it he was opening his mouth and more words were spilling out.

 

“I made the whole job, too. I' was totally unique. I'll never find anythin’ like i' again.”

 

“Dream job, huh? I know what that feels like.”

 

“Having i', or bein' fired from i'?”

 

She tipped her head back and let out a loud laugh. Being completely honest, it was the first thing about her that wasn't particularly attractive. It was loud, and almost abrasive. He raised an eyebrow, and took another sip of his drink, waiting for her to calm and answer his question. When she finally stopped braying she took a sip of her cider before she replied.

 

“Having it. I've had mine for the last 6 months and things just keep getting better.”

         

“So wha’ is i’ ye do?”

 

“I’m a scientist.” She said after a long pause, taking a generous sip of her drink.

 

“Yeah? Wha’ kind of scientist?” As an engineer he appreciated a lot of science, so to find out this beautiful woman was someone with a decent IQ level was a bonus.

 

Another pause. “Just a scientist.”

 

“Seriously? Ye pester me t' tell ye abou' my bad day, and all I ge' is tha' yer a scientist?” He turned to face her for the first time since she had joined him. The warmed alcohol had given her face a new kind of flush, one that made her cheeks rosy and a pink to rise up her neck that had him wondering just how far down it reached. He could almost picture it spreading across her chest, tinting the tops of her breast. She kicked his boot with the toe of her own, rolling her eyes at him.

 

“It's more complicated than that, Jock,” she sighed, stirring her cider with the cinnamon stick. He couldn't help but notice that for the first time since she entered that she didn't seem entirely happy.

 

“Tha's a given. Wha' is i'?”

 

“What's what?” She asked, uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs, drawing his attention momentarily.

 

“Sassenach.” He tried to put as much warmth into his voice as he could manage (a difficult task for a grumpy, half-drunk Scot). “Look, if ye cannae talk about i', tha's fine. Bu' I though' ye said i' was yer dream job.”

 

“Oh, no, don't get me wrong! I love my job. Love it. I just...” She trailed off. He let her have a moment – it was obviously a difficult subject – but after a pregnant pause, he prompted her.

 

“Ye jus'...”

 

“I don't know.” She sighed heavily shaking her head. “Like I said. Complicated.   I can't really talk about it.”

 

“Who are ye workin' for? Bloody S.H.I.E.L.D. or wha’ever they're called?” He'd meant it as a joke. There was no way this bubbly Brit was working for a not-so-secret secret government organization. He'd expected the slightly disagreeable braying laugh, but was met with more silence. “Sassenach? Please tell me ye don'?”

 

“And if I did?” She said, her chin lifting as she met his eyes defiantly. He took a moment to consider her before replying.

 

“Then I’d have lotsa questions why.” He answered honestly, taking another sip of his drink.

 

“Why?” She crinkled her brow, as though she didn’t quite understand.

 

“Well, they’re hardly wha’ ye could call moral or righ’.” His words weren’t meant to be rude; rather, he was curious about what her response would be. When she only lifted a sculpted brow, silently challenging him to continue, he elaborated. “I mean, the whole organisation is abou’ as shady as ye can ge’. The only reason why anyone knows they exis’ really is cos bloody aliens invaded New York and crashed through London, and whenever anyone asks abou’ i’ they’re drowned in beaurocratic bull shi’ and lies.” He was surprised to hear the accusatory tone that had crept into his voice by the end of his explanation.

 

“I don't make a habit of lying,” she started before tilting her head slightly and wincing, “mainly because I’m horrible at it, but sometimes it’s necessary.” She jumped off her stool and began tugging on the infernal yellow raincoat that had caught his eye to start with. “Never mind then. Nice talking to you, Jock. Good luck with your job.”

 

“Hold on a momen'!” He jumped up and dashed after her. Pulling on his Dry-As-A-Bone. “Where are ye off to?”

 

“Look, you made it clear you disapprove of S.H.I.E.L.D. I just figured it would be best if we went our separate ways.”

 

They were standing on the street now, the wind whipping around them. She tugged on her hair impatiently, trying to get it to stay down tucked behind her ear. Fitz’s hand acted of its own accord, coming up and tangling in her fly away locks.

 

Looking at her now he realized that he hadn't really seen her all afternoon. As he had first observed when she careened in, she was beautiful, but even more stunning upon close inspection. Her skin was pale, which made the rosy flush of her cheeks stand out even more. Her lips were free of gloss now, and he couldn't stop his gaze drifting to them as he continued studying her. This close he could smell the apples and spices from her cider over the floral tones still present from her perfume. Her heels on her boots boosted her just enough that she was only an inch shorter than him.

 

“I-” He shook his head. This was ridiculous. He had just met her. Why he felt this uneasiness at having upset her, no matter how inadvertently, he had no idea.

 

He felt cold fingers wrap around his wrist, dipping under the cuff of both his jacket and jumper.

 

Her hazel eyes were squinted slightly against the wind that was still blowing around them, and he felt an irrational need to see them, pupils blown wide enough to reduce the hazel to a thin band. He took a step closer, feeling the shudder she gave, although he didn't know if it was due to the wind or him. Her head tilted back slightly, bringing their lips that much closer together.

 

“Well,” she whispered, and he felt the warm wash of her breath over his lips, “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

 

“I don’ know.” He whispered, hearing how his brogue had thickened and made his voice slightly husky, deeper.

 

“I’ll give you three seconds.” She murmured. He watched as her tongue slid along the seam of her lips, making it glisten. He hesitated, just looking at the pale flesh that he somehow knew was going to be his undoing. “3…2…”

 

He couldn’t hold back any longer. His lips descended on hers as she breathed out “one”.

 

The hand that had been loosely gripping his wrist slid down to clutch at his elbow, and he felt the other curl around the back of his neck, felt her fingers bury themselves in the short curls there and he knew that this was going to be a very good afternoon indeed.

 

He left one of his hands on her jaw, holding her steady as he let his own tongue trace the same path hers had a moment before, pressing gently, asking for entrance. He wound his free arm around her waist tightly, twisting his fist in the material of that bloody raincoat, causing her hips to press against his as she arched slightly. He’d been half hard already, but the way she pressed into him caused his breath to hitch and he instinctively ground back into her. She gave a breathy sigh and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue passed her lips to trace her teeth once before he pulled back, opening his eyes to look down at her.

 

Her own eyes remained closed, but the corners of her lips were pulled up in a smile and her chest rose and fell unevenly with her slightly laboured breathing. Forget what he’d thought before; seeing her like this made him reconsider his entire outlook on his day. It had turned from being particularly shite to being one of the best days he’d had in a long while.

 

“That’s a good start,” she murmured, her eyelids finally fluttering open.

 

“Star’?” He echoed, brushing his thumb along the apple of her cheek where her flush had deepened.

 

“At paying me back for the whiskey.”

 

He laughed. Not loudly, just enough that it took him a bit by surprise. He hadn’t laughed in quite some time, and it somehow felt right that this woman had been the cause.

 

“How much of a star’ was i’ then?”

 

“Hmm,” she hummed, pushing up towards him and pressing a quick peck to his lips that made him smile again, “Maybe $5?”

 

“Only 5!” He cried in mock outrage, loosening his arms and making to step back from her.

 

“Well it was a rather expensive bottle, so you still have a ways to go to make full payment.” The flirty tone was back, and she pressed into him again. He didn’t reply, just bent and captured her lips again.

 

This time he didn’t pull away so soon. Instead, he let himself take control of the kiss, alternating pressure between her lips before seeking entrance to her mouth again. She gave a low hum of appreciation as he once more tightened his arms around her.

 

A particularly strong gust of wind took them by surprise, knocking them sideways and forcing them to break apart, laughing. Fitz realised then that they were still standing in the middle of a fairly busy sidewalk in the middle of the day.

 

“Do ye have a place near here?” He whispered, pressing a couple of kisses to her jaw before sucking her ear lobe into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, making her release a breathy moan.

 

“Not- Not close.” She mumbled, her fingers curling into the front of his jacket. “I’m staying in a hotel.”

 

That suited Fitz just fine. Neutral ground meant that it was less personal, and not having her at his place would mean that he would be able to slip out rather than having to kick her out.

 

“Lead th’ way.” His words were met with another stunning smile and he let her slip from his grasp, only to have her tangle her fingers with his and pull him behind her.

 

The silence that descended on them was comfortable. Even though Fitz knew the city like the back of his hand, he let her lead him, seeing as she hadn’t said which hotel she was staying at. He tried to ignore the slight sinking feeling in his gut when he realised that that meant she was from out of town, and that they wouldn’t see each other again – after all, this was a one night stand. Well, technically a one afternoon stand.

 

“So are ye in town on business?” He asked without meaning to. With her working for S.H.I.E.L.D. the chance of her actually telling him were slim to none.

 

“That’s classified, Jock.” She said, raising a disapproving eyebrow at him.

 

He shrugged one shoulder, bending slightly to press a kiss just in front of her ear before he whispered, “Ye know, tha’s quite a turn on.” And he meant it. For all that he’d been disapproving of the beurocracy surrounding S.H.I.E.L.D. earlier, he couldn’t deny that the mystery that it added to her was enticing, making her even more desirable.

 

She sent him a cheeky grin, which sent another bolt of desire through him, reawakening the heat that had set in low in his belly.

 

“How much further?” He asked, not carrying that he sounded like a child on a long car trip. She laughed under her breath and he felt her fingers tighten around his where they were still entwined.

 

“The next block.”

 

That put her just a block away from his place. He couldn’t resist speeding up his footsteps, passing her so that he was now in the lead. Another laugh met his ears and he glanced over his shoulder at her to see her shaking her head slightly. He sent her a cheeky grin, but tugged their joined hands so she was pulled along with him. Her pace matched his and she tucked her free hand into the crook of his elbow. The pose was achingly intimate, something which surprised him, but what he found more interesting was that he didn’t actually mind. People passing them gave them that look, the one that they were seeing a couple in love. He shook that thought out of his head as soon as it entered.

 

She used her grip on his arm to steer him into a building (lucky, because he had been so caught up in his thoughts and hadn’t seen the sign for the hotel). He cast a cursory glance around the lobby, taking in the sophisticated colour scheme and modern décor, but he caught a glimpse of his companion out of the corner of his eye, saw the way she was chewing on her bottom lip and his surroundings no longer held his interest. The fire in his belly flared and he found his knee jigging impatiently while they stood, waiting for the lifts. Soft lips brushing his jaw pulled him back out of his head. He tilted his head down to return her affection, letting his mouth linger on the hinge of her jaw, in front of her ear.

 

“Las’ chance, Sassenach. If I ge’ in tha’ lif’ with ye I won’ be turnin’ back. No’ ‘til i’s dark, a’ leas’.” The words were spoken softly, directly into her ear so his breath washed over it and his lips brushed the shell. He tried not to take pride in the shiver that ran down her spine, but failed.

 

“Giving me til dark? Who are you – Cinderella?” She said back, her head rolling to the side to expose more of her neck to him. He didn’t waste the opportunity, nosing her hair out the way and letting his kisses trail as far down the exposed skin as he could, before the collar of that blasted raincoat got in the way.

 

“Maybe the pumpkin,” he joked, giving the part of her shoulder he could reach a playful nip.

 

“Thank God you didn’t say the mouse.” His barking laugh wasn’t quiet at all, and he pulled himself up so as not to deafen her. Using the hand still holding hers he pulled her round in front of him so he could wrap his both his arms around her, her back pressed against his front. She was laughing too, the same braying laugh as in the pub, and he couldn’t help but notice the way it seemed to compliment his own slightly animalistic explosion. The ding notifying the arrival of the lift was only audible as their laughter died down to breathless giggles. They stepped aside as one for an elderly couple who were emerging. The couple looked at them and once more Fitz was faced with ‘the look’, the one that said ‘well aren’t you two adorable’. And he didn’t even know the name of the girl in his arms.

 

“Did ye jus’ try t’ tell me ye think I’m hun’ like a-“ Her lips were pressed to his before he finished the sentence, and he chuckled slightly into her mouth.

 

An uncomfortable throat clearing forced Fitz to withdraw from her addictive lips. He had the good grace to look sheepish as he saw the porter holding the lift door for them.

 

“Thank you,” she mumbled, ducking her head but not loosening her grip on his arm so he was forced to stay wrapped around her as they got in.

 

“What floor?” The porter grinned.

 

“Oh, eight, please.” She said, blushing.

 

Fitz snugged his arms around her waist a little tighter as he leant back against the cold metal wall, forcing her to come to rest against him, her back to his chest. Her fingers slid back up his sleeve to trace random patterns into his skin. It took him a moment to register that she was drawing various chemical makeup diagrams, he recognised dopamine and oxygen, but the rest were lost in the rush of said chemicals to his brain.

 

The lift dinged again and the porter trundled out with his baggage trolley, throwing Fitz a not-so-sly wink just as the doors closed once more and leaving him and the gorgeous Brit alone.

 

It was amazing. The moment the doors slid shut the tension in the little box skyrocketed. Her body heat radiated through the layers of clothing they were both wearing, stoking the fire in his veins. A little wiggle of her hips had his breath catching in his throat and his half erect cock twitching against his jeans.

 

“Ye’re teasing,” he murmured releasing his hold on her waist in favour of grasping her hips. Contrary to what his words might have suggested the teasing friction of her arse rubbing against him was a sweet form of torture he couldn’t get enough of.

 

“And if I was?” She whispered, giving her hips another wiggle. The pressure this time wasn’t so teasing though, causing him to groan as he ground his hips against her in retaliation.

 

“Then I’d give ye fair warnin’ tha’ I’m gonna return the favour when we’ve go’ some privacy.” He punctuated the promise by grazing his teeth against the sensitive spot on her neck just under her ear. “Ye’re beautiful, ye know tha’?”

 

He hadn’t meant for the endearment to slip out. _Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,_ he thought for a moment. This was supposed to be impersonal. No feelings, no attachments. That’s why he was at her hotel room rather than inviting her the extra block over to his place. Her next words, however, removed that last bit of doubt.

 

“No, I’m not.” She mumbled twisting in his grip to face hip, looping her arms around his neck. “That’s not me putting myself down, by the way. I know that I’m moderately attractive, but my features aren’t symmetrical enough to be considered beautiful.”

 

“Sassenach, shu’ up.” He growled, gripping her hips again and pulling her tight against him just as the lift dinged for a final time on the eighth floor.

 

“Hold that thought.” She whispered, pulling back from him and exiting the lift, walking a short ways down the corridor before coming to a stop outside one of the doors. He didn’t follow after her immediately, just watched as she walked so confidently away from him, her hips swaying enticingly. However, he was still distracted by her words. Not symmetrical enough? What bull shit was that? The doors sliding closed startled him. His hand shot out to stop them from closing completely and he stumbled out, flushing slightly. When he looked up he saw her leaning against her door frame, casually seductive, with a raised eyebrow and a lip between her teeth.

 

“You alright there, Jock?” She asked, her tone full of mirth as she held a hand out to him. He took it, but rather than letting her take the lead as she had probably expected he crowded against her, herding her through the open door. She looked a little startled, but didn’t show any sign that she was uncomfortable. As soon as they were far enough into the room he kicked the door closed behind him, and pushed her against the wall, pressing her in with his body.

 

“Now. Wha’ exactly did ye mean by tha’ in the lif’?” He growled, gently pulling her hair away from her neck and brushing his nose against her skin, teasing her with his hot breath but refusing to give her any satisfaction.

 

“What- What do you mean?” She stuttered, and he felt his pride flair at just how effected she was, especially seeing as she’d been so cool and collected just moments ago.

 

“Ye spouted off some shite abou’ ye no’ bein’ beautiful.” He prompted, pulling his face from her neck so he could look her in the eye. The hazel had melted to a honey gold by now, and her pupils were blown wide, just as he’d imagined earlier.

 

“Oh, that. Well it’s true. Beautiful people as we deem in society today, like celebrities, have very symmetrical features.” Her tone, while still breathless and a little husky, was matter of fact.

 

“I’s tha’ righ’?” He murmured, pressing a slow, deep kiss to her lips, teasing her with his tongue.

 

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes closed and her head lolling loosely back against the wall once he pulled away again.

 

“Wanna know wha’ I think?” He asked, kissing her cheeks once each, bumping her nose with his. She nodded, but he wanted to look at her, to make her believe him. “Open ye eyes.” He murmured, kissing her gently but not giving in when she tried to deepen it. “Open ye eyes, Sassenach.”

 

Her hands came up to his neck and tried to pull him down to her again, but he wasn’t having any of it. Releasing his grip on her hips he snatched both her wrists in a careful hold and lifted them over her head, transferring them both to one hand while letting the other come down to stroke her face.

 

Eventually her eyes fluttered open and he was once more entranced by her. For all the confidence and strength she carried herself with she was delicate and vulnerable in his hold here. The primal male part of him felt a surge of pride. How could this exquisite woman _not_ think she was beautiful? Sure he had her attention now he pressed his forehead to hers, holding her gaze.

 

“I’s the flaws tha’ make us human. They may be beautiful because they’re ‘symmetrical’ or wha’ever bull ye claimed, bu’ they’re no’ human. Ye’re human. And ye’re beautiful.”

 

“So you’re saying I’m flawed?” She said, and he hated that she was joking around still.

 

“Ye’re no’ listenin’ t’ me. Yes, ye’re flawed. So am I. So is every other person ou’ there. But jus’ because ye’re no’ symmetrical doesnae mean ye no’ attractive. Ye are. Ye’re beautiful. Why else would I be achin’ for ye like this?” He finished by pressing his hips into hers so she could feel his erection right where he was dying to be buried. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away from him this time. Her eyes glistened and he hated that he’d made her tear up, but she was finally listening to him. “Do ye hear me? Ye’re beautiful.”

 

“O- Okay.” Her voice was small and tight now, but she rocked forward to meet the press of his hips.

 

“Say i’.” His tone was forceful, but not enough to scare her. “I want t’ hear ye say i’.”

 

“I- I’m beautiful.” It was nothing more than a whimper. He felt her lips tremble against his and he gave a small smile. It was a start. Closing his eyes he pressed a kiss to her jaw before rocking into her again, this time keeping a slow steady rhythm, teasing the both of them with a taste of what was to come. She whimpered again and he opened his eyes to see her looking pained.

 

“Ye’re okay,” he whispered, trying to reassure her, of what he didn’t quite know, he just knew that she needed the soothing affection. “Ye’re okay, baby girl.”

 

“Kiss me?” It was a question that wobbled from her lips and made his heart clench. He felt like he’d broken some part of her but he needed her to understand this. He did as she asked, giving her some control back despite the position he held her in.

 

It was slow. Gentle. Intimate. Everything that a kiss shared with a one night stand should not have been. But this woman. He couldn’t separate himself and he knew, right in that moment that this would end in heartache but he couldn’t stop himself. Her whimper turned to a sigh and he felt himself relax. He hadn’t realised that he needed the assurance that she was okay as much for himself as for her. He brought his other hand up to where her wrists were still held over her head and ever so carefully lowered them, one in each of his own hands, taking care not to make any sudden motions, aware that her shoulders may well be aching.

 

“I need to ge’ ye ou’ of this coa’.” He gave her a small smile as his fingers went to the tie gently pulling it loose and pushing the blasted thing off her shoulders.

 

“What’s wrong with my coat?” The delivery of the joke wasn’t as strong as it could have been, but it gave him another burst of confidence that this was okay, that he was doing the right thing.

 

“Nothin’s wrong with i’,” he started, as she unzipped and removed his coat in turn, “Bu’ i’s all I’ve been seein’ and I want t’ see more.”

 

The smile she gave him was genuine and so bright her coat looked pale in comparison.

 

“Good, because I’ve been dying to see underneath this jumper since I saw you in the pub." She bit her lip around a sultry grin. Fitz struggled with juggling his hold on her and pulling his arms out the sleeves of the blasted jumper he’d put on that morning.  She giggled at his struggle and side stepped around him while he was distracted. “Need a hand there, Jock?” A frustrated growl tore from his chest as he eventually managed to strip the bloody thing over his head throwing it on the floor somewhere behind him before coming right back to her, hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. This time she raised her own arms over her head and he took the invitation to lift her shirt off, letting it fall to the ground as her hands came down to rest on his chest. That first contact felt like a brand and he sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth. Inevitably his eyes dropped from her own as soon as he’d rid himself of her shirt and he took the moment to admire the way her pale skin flushed a delicate pink, and the curve of her waist, the flair of her hips, and the slope her breasts hidden from his view for now by the pastel blue, floral lace bra. He took in the way her skin pimpled with gooseflesh at the sudden exposure to the cool air of the room and his lips curved up in a grin.

 

“Ye’re beautiful.” He murmured again, stepping back into her personal space and framing her face with his hands. He’d never noticed how large his hands were until he saw them in comparison to her. He wasn’t a large guy, he was hardly larger that she was, yet it was enough for him to notice. His lips hovered over hers, not quite kissing, but he felt the heat of her mouth all the same. “Say i’,” he prompted once more.

 

“I’m beautiful.” The confidence that had come back to her once he’d stripped her of her coat was nowhere to be heard in her voice, but she said it all the same.

 

“I want t’ hear ye say i’ whenever I tell ye, okay?” He mumbled against her cheek. “Tha’ okay?” He asked when she didn’t immediately respond.

 

“Yeah. Yeah that’s okay.” Her smile was delicate, but not so much so that he was worried she was going to break as he had been earlier.

 

“Good.” He rewarded her with a heated kiss, bringing back the same fire that they’d had before. She responded in kind, letting her fingers tunnel into his curls and he moaned at the slight scraping of the lace against his chest.

 

God, he’d _missed_ this. Missed this feeling of being wanted. Her teeth in his lower lip brought a groan from deep within him, and he opened his mouth to her willingly. His curls were abandoned in favour of her lightly scratching her nails over his shoulders and he felt the sensation all the way down his back. A coil began to wind in him, but he wanted to take care of her first.

 

He slowly walked her back towards the bed and, when he felt his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he tipped her back, one arm clutching her to him and the other catching himself so she didn’t get jarred at the sudden change in position, taking care never to break the kiss even as he heard her inhale sharply through her nose. He took his time from there, pressing kisses from her lips down to her neck, trying to discover all the places that made her tremble, moan or sigh. As he moved on to her chest he couldn’t resist rasping his five o’clock shadow against her sensitive flesh, glancing up at her to make sure it didn’t irritate. Judging from the way her fingers curled into the duvet it was a welcome sensation. He let his tongue dart out to trace her skin. He tasted the tell-tale alcoholic tang of her perfume, could identify every place she had spritzed herself with it. He moaned against her when he tasted it in the valley between her breasts, taking a moment to smell the delicate floral bouquet.

 

There was a small satin bow on the bra, and he couldn’t resist tugging at it with his teeth, even though he knew there was no actual function to it. She gave him a small grin, releasing one hand from the covers to brush back through his hair, holding him in place. He returned her smile, revelling in the feel of her blunt nails scratching at his scalp before turning to nose her bra, letting his lips drift lower against her.

 

The kisses he proceeded to place over her flat stomach were hot and open mouthed, fuelled by lust. Her moans and sighs were becoming more frequent and he took a masculine pleasure in feeling the way her abdominal muscles were fluttering under his ministrations. When he reached the snap of her jeans he hesitated, once again glancing up at her to check that this was okay. She levered herself up on her elbows, so he had to look up the slope of her body to meet her eyes. Her eyes were lidded, and her smile was delicate again but the flush that spread over her chest was enticing. He knew that some of it was from where he’d rubbed his stubble and he smiled instinctively.

 

“Ye’re beautiful,” he murmured, pressing his still smiling lips below her belly button. When he didn’t hear her he glanced back up. She’d tipped her head back so he could no longer see her. He pulled away, crawling up her body until he was even with her, using one of his hands to cradle the back of her head. “Sassenach. Remember wha’ I said?”

 

“Hmmm?” Her eyes fluttered open and he raised an eyebrow. There was no way she was distracted enough yet to have forgotten the rule.

 

“Ye’re beautiful, baby girl.”

 

“Oh, I- I’m beautiful.” Again, there was nothing confident about the words, but he was determined to change that by the end of their time together.

 

“Good girl.” He rewarded her by undoing the snap and fly of her jeans, appreciating the way her hips jumped and lifted, despite him not making any move to pull them off. The glimpse of her underwear that he could see matched her bra, and he felt another bolt of desire straight to his groin. He climbed off of her, grinning at the whimper she gave when he withdrew. Kneeling on the floor between her legs he unzipped and pulled off her boots, gently digging his knuckles into the balls of her feet. She sat up to watch him. Usually, this would have made him uncomfortable. He was confident enough in his skill in the bedroom to not be self-conscious, but he never enjoyed being watched. She was different though. He knew that made him sound like a stuck record, but it was true. Her eyes on him didn’t make him want to stop what he was doing. Instead he continued rubbing her feet through her socks. When he felt her wiggle her toes he grinned, but stopped and tugged her socks off. She’d painted her nails a surprising purple. For some reason he hadn’t taken her for a nail polish kind of girl. (Not that he really had anything to base that off of, he didn’t know this girl.)

 

Standing again he toed off his own shoes and hopped around as he removed his socks which made her giggle. Back on two – now bare – feet he returned his attention to her jeans, slowly peeling them down her legs. Once they were off he trailed his hands up her calves, massaging them gently as he’d done with her feet, working slowly up. He placed a small kiss to each knee, tucking his hands behind them and using that grip to pull her towards the edge of the bed. She gave a small huff of surprise, but let him manipulate her body into the position that he wanted. Taking a breath he could smell her arousal. He glanced up her body again, saw the way she was once more lying down with her hands twisted in the covers and grinned. He alternated his attention between her thighs, brushing kissing across the sensitive flesh, ensuring his stubble dragged and teased along the way. She was squirming before he even reached the lace covering her.

 

Making good on his promise from the lift he didn’t give her any satisfaction. Moving his lips over to the tops of her thighs he moved up the left one to the lace of her underwear, taking it between his teeth and giving it a playful tug. Her fingers came up and massaged his neck even as she gave a little whimper and her hips shuffled.

 

“Ye getting’ impatient there, sweethear’?” He nipped his teeth at the skin stretched over her hip bone, laving it with his tongue to take away the sting.

 

“Yes!” This wasn’t a whimper like her earlier ones had been. This time it was a full on cry, which made him laugh, but he acquiesced, tucking his fingers into the band and dragging them down her legs. She gave a little sigh of relief as he removed them, her legs going lax against his sides when he returned to her. He let his fingers stroke over her hips, encouraging her to relax further into the bed.

 

“Ye’re beautiful,” He murmured again, stroking his fingers lower to brush the curls between her legs. Her hips lifted to meet his fingers as she whispered it back to him. Once satisfied that she was still going to be able to follow his one simple rule he let his fingers slip lower to slick through her folds. He moaned at the same time she did when he felt just how wet she was. “God, Sassenach, ye’re so we’. Is this all f’ me?”

 

“Yes.” She was back to whimpering and he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed this just as much as her earlier cry. Her hips jumped as he pressed his finger against the small nub hidden between her lips. Slipping his knuckle down to nudge against her entrance, feeling it slick against her and bending to kiss her opposite hip, using his fee arm to press lightly against her stomach. If he was going to take his time with her and knowingly break his own heart, he was going to do it his way. That meant no rushing, no hurried touches and quick fucks. What it did mean was soft caresses, deep kisses, and drawn out pleasure. Hell, he didn’t care if he didn’t get a release until well past midnight if it meant having her sprawled out in front of him for his perusal. He was going to use this time with her to learn her, to find out what made her keen and twitch and come undone. He was going to show her exactly what it was she seemed to have been missing from all her encounters with her previous partners, seeing as they’d let her go on with the ridiculous notion that she wasn’t beautiful.

 

The whole time he’d been thinking he had been letting his knuckle massage her entrance, and she had been responding, twitching and whimpering and trying to buck her hips.

 

“Please.” Just like her request for a kiss had been earlier this was so quiet he would have missed it if she hadn’t reached the hand that wasn’t still tunnelled in his curls to tangle with his fingers at her hip. Unlike earlier though he didn’t give in right away, choosing instead to circle the tips of his fingers up to her clit. He squeezed the fingers that were tangled with his when she whimpered. Pinning her hips with his forearm while making sure not to let go of her fingers he finally let her have what she wanted, pushing his index finger into her just to the knuckle. Her breath caught in her chest and he shuffled slightly upwards so he was once more able to brush his lips to hers.

 

“Ye okay?” He murmured, taking care not to let his finger move in her until he’d got an answer.

 

“Don’t stop.” Her voice shook and he was worried for a moment that she wasn’t okay. He released her hand and pushed himself up on his elbow, letting his weight fall just off to one side of her as he brushed a curl back from her face. Her eyes were screwed shut, lips trembling.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, bumping her nose with his gently, “Look a’ me. Please?” When she did as he requested he almost withdrew his hand from her. There were tears in her eyes, and one leaked out the corner, trickling down her temple. “I need t’ know ye’re okay.”

 

“I am. I’m okay.” She tried to reassure him, tilting her head into his hand where it still rested against her cheek. “I promise I’m okay.”

 

“Why are ye cryin’ then?” His pride had definitely taken a hit at seeing her tears, and he needed to understand what was going on with her.

 

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed and he made a decision. However when he went to remove his hand she grabbed his arm, not letting him move it. “No, please don’t. I wasn’t expecting this, is all.”

 

“Weren’ expectin’ wha’?” He was confused still, but reassured that she didn’t want him to move. Instead he leant his weight against her more solidly, and let his finger slip further into her body. This time he was rewarded with her breathless sigh and he brushed a kiss to her temple. “Weren’ expectin’ wha’?”

 

“You,” she sighed, lifting her hips slightly and causing his finger to slip inside her the rest of the way.

 

“Wha’ abou’ me?”

 

“You were such a bastard at the pub. I expected you to be rough and quick. Selfish.” That stung a little and he pulled back to look her in the eye again.

 

“’M sorry, I can do that if ye wan’.” He said jokingly, but pressed his hips to her so she could feel his now fully erect cock press against her thigh and he slid another finger into her with no hesitation. She moaned loudly, bucking against his hand.

 

“No, no, this is perfect.”

 

“Perfec’?” He teased, starting a gentle rhythm, drawing his fingers out slightly before pushing back into her. “Tha’s a lo’ of praise f’ one man, baby girl.”

 

“Shut up, please!” She was back to crying out for him, but he continued to tease, not changing his slow unrelenting rhythm. She was rocking her hips to meet his thrusting fingers, so he twisted his wrist slightly, ignoring the twinge at the new odd angle, and gently strummed his thumb against her clit. He grinned against her cheek as her moan stuttered in her throat.

 

“Beautiful. Ye’re beautiful.” The words were spoken directly in her ear, his breath hot and he took the lobe between his teeth, dragging them carefully against the skin. She gave the same stuttered moan and his grin was downright predatory now.

 

“B-Beautiful.” It wasn’t exactly what he’s asked of her, but close enough that he let it go. He brushed his lips down the side of her neck, nipping at random intervals and coming to stop at her pulse. He felt it thrum against his lips, felt the way it jumped when he pressed his thumb against her clit and her hips shot up, swivelling a little as though trying to force his fingers to a particular spot. He pulled himself away from her enough to look down on her.

 

“Stay with me, Sassenach.” He said, circling his thumb around her clit and feeling a responding flutter of her keegel muscles. “No’ ye’.” He murmured, pulling his fingers from her but continuing to massage her lips. She gave what almost sounded like a growl and he gave a huff of laughter, ducking to press a hot kiss to her mouth.

 

“Jock-“ She started when he pulled away, but he cut her off with another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than any they’d shared. Her hips shifted, trying to get his fingers to slip inside her once more. When he pulled back this time it was to retrace a now familiar path down the column of her throat, pressing kisses all down her chest to one breast, then the other, mouthing over her bra, before traversing lower to her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her belly button, making her moan and pant as he trailed his lips down, down, down. He felt her curls brush the underside of his jaw and he moved down further, shuffling his body so he was no longer on the bed but once again kneeling between her thighs. When he removed his fingers from her folds she keened and went to sit up but he moved one hand, spreading his palm over her sternum to keep her down.

 

Sure that she wasn’t going to move again he pulled her knees up to rest over his shoulders and pressed a kiss to each inner thigh. The muscles twitched and he grinned before pressing a kiss to her outer lips. A keening cry filled the room and he took it as a good sign. His tongue darted out stroking quickly up her slit, getting his first real taste of her. She was tangy, sweet, and there was just something so her, like her essence. He had tasted it on her skin, in the sweat that had come out in a sheen across her body, but it was stronger here, concentrated. He knew it was pheromones or some other chemical, but to him it tasted like heaven and he couldn’t get enough. Bringing his hand up he parted her folds to get to her centre, running his tongue in a figure eight, drawing loops with the tip around her clit and her entrance. She was shuffling again, her hips bucking and loud sighs and breathy moans filling the air with a few ‘Oh Gods’ thrown in here and there for good measure. When he was sure she was on edge her pressed in closer, inhaling her scent as he dipped his tongue into her in imitation of the motion his fingers had been carrying out moments before.

 

He didn’t hear it at first. He was so distracted by her smell, her taste, the movement of her hips against his mouth. But soon it permeated through all of that, through the moans and the sighs.

 

“ _Please, please, please, please, please._ ” She was begging. Begging him to let her come.

 

The growl that erupted from him was completely involuntary. His cock twitched against his zipper making the growl fade to moan. He wanted her, wanted to bury himself in her to the hilt, to feel the flutter of her muscles against his aching member, but when she pleaded with him again he remembered his mission and pushed the desire down. He’d get to that later. Many, many times.

 

Removing his mouth from her took every bit of self-discipline in his body, but he needed to say something and couldn’t with his tongue buried in her folds.

 

“I’m gonna le’ ye come now, baby girl,” he murmured. He waited until he saw her nod fervently at his words, before he carried on. “Bu’ ye have t’ come in the nex’ minute, okay, or I’m gonna bring ye down again and star’ all over.” Honestly, he didn’t know if he had the patience to do that, but he would try his hardest to make it happen. She nodded again, another cry pulling from her lips.

 

He anticipated her hands coming to tangle in his hair and caught them instead, one in each of hand, pressing them down to the mattress. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to feel her grasping at him, or her blunt fingernails scratching at his scalp, but he couldn’t anticipate her reaction after being teased like this. After making sure her fingers were tangled in the covers so she wouldn’t grab him unexpectedly he ducked his face back down, and scraped his teeth ever so gently against her clit as he thrust two fingers into her, crooking them in a ‘come hither’ gesture. He knew he’d found the spot she’d been trying to get him to graze earlier when her muscles clamped down on his fingers and she shook, her entire body tensing as her cries suddenly cut off.

 

He glanced up. If it wasn’t for her full body tremors he would have been worried. What he saw was her head thrown back in ecstasy and one hand that had untangled from the sheets was now pressed against her mouth. Tamping down the urge to abandon what he was doing in favour of kissing her, he eased her through her climax, letting his fingers thrust into her ever so gently as her muscles fluttered around them, her juices leaking over to his palm. He took his time, lapping at her folds gently, being careful not to over stimulate her as she was coming down. Satisfied that she was calm enough, he withdrew from her completely, letting one hand stroke up her torso, but not crowding her, aware that some people needed space after such an intense orgasm.

 

However she snuggled into his side, hands clutching at his arm, pulling it across her like a safety blanket.

 

“Ye’re beautiful. Jus’ beautiful.” He sighed repeatedly, letting his lips brush the skin over her collarbones and further up her neck as he made his way to her mouth. He kept his kisses brief, letting her catch her breath as she continued to pant. Eventually he heard a very faint murmur that hadn’t come from him. He tipped his head so his ear was level with her mouth.

 

“ _Thank you._ ”

 

“For wha’, baby girl?” He asked, kissing the skin of her neck just under her ear, “I’ve jus’ go’ started.” She whimpered again, but it wasn’t in a terrified way, just in anticipation.

 

This time when he brushed his lips against hers she met him, digging her fingers in the bunched muscle of his shoulder. He’d been expecting something sloppy and languid, something in line with the way her body was lax against him, but it wasn’t. It was desperate and passionate and needy. As she snuggled against him he felt her rub her hip against his cock and he moaned into her mouth, nipping her lip and grinding into her instinctively.

 

She surprised him then by rolling over so their positions were reversed, him pressed on his back and her torso covering his as they continued to kiss. He took the opportunity now that he could get to her back, to unsnap her bra. Her lips ticked up against his and he pulled away from her to smile back.

 

“Wha’? I couldnae get to i’ before.” He explained. She giggled but nosed his jaw, making him tip his head to the side, the grin still firmly in place on his lips. It was her turn to kiss his neck and he chose to just enjoy it as she pressed open mouth kisses down the tendon there. He felt her teeth scrape against it now and then and couldn’t stop the low moans making their way out his chest. When she reached his pulse she opened her lips and sucked what he was sure would be a fairly dark bruise into the skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All his blood was running south, making his cock swell and he found the constricting denim was beginning to become more a pain than pleasurable friction.

 

“God, I wan’ ye,” he groaned, rocking his hips up even though there was nothing there to relieve the pressure. Reading his movement for exactly what it was – a silent cry for more – she swung a leg over his body so she was straddling his hips, pulling another moan from him at the new sensation. With the only barrier between them his jeans and boxers he could feel the heat of her radiating onto him, could feel the ghost of it wrapped around his fingers still. He let his hands grip her hips, holding her in place as he ground up into her, taking advantage of the fact that she would still be sensitive to rub the coarse denim of his jeans against her folds. She whimpered against his neck and he grinned wolfishly.

 

“Ye’re beautiful,” he repeated, kissing just above her ear, the only part of her he could reach seeing as her face was still buried in his neck. He didn’t hear her repeat the words back to him, but he did feel her lips brush against his skin as she spoke them, felt her breath wash against him. She sat up, and removed her bra from where it had been hanging from the straps over her shoulders, presenting herself to him and she was so beautiful he felt his breath catch in his chest. Her small smile let him know she noticed, but she shuffled back to perch over his thighs and brought her hands down to toy with the snap of his jeans like he’d done to her. The feel of her cold fingers sliding under the waistband was slowly driving him out of his mind. He could feel every movement, every brush of skin against the trail of hair that led further down. His lower abdominals clenched and released, the coil he had felt earlier tightening at the base of his spine. God, she hadn’t even _touched_ him yet.

 

As soon as the thought entered his head he felt her fingers retract and the tell-tale tug and release of his pants being undone and the enticing slide of the zipper. What he hadn’t expected was her bending to press an open mouthed kiss to the cotton over his cock. The groan was, yet again, involuntary, but he didn’t have a clue how he was supposed to control his reactions. He tried to buck his hips up, but with the way she was balanced on the tops of his thighs meant that he couldn’t move too much without completely unseating her and sending her toppling to the floor. He didn’t realise that he’d shifted his hand until he felt the soft strands of her hair tangle between his fingers. Rather than pulling away he used the grip to gently manoeuvre her up so he could kiss her. Truth was that if he’d let her carry on mouthing at him like she had been, this whole afternoon would be finished a lot faster than he wanted it to be. However this presented a different problem. Now he could feel the drag of her pebbled nipples over his chest. It was enticing in a way that nothing else had been. He let his other hand slide up her back, fingers spread wide to cover as much skin as possible, and pressed down gently so she came to rest over his front. The skin to skin contact was intimate and warm, and made him roll his hips once more.

 

She let him hold her there for a moment, let the kiss deepen before slowly pulling away, sliding her lips from his to his jaw, and then lower. Her tongue darted out occasionally, licking over his skin. When she got to his chest she gave each of his nipples attention, nipping the small bud and sucking it gently. The pleasure-pain went straight to his cock making it surge and he felt momentarily light headed.

 

“ _God_ , baby girl.” He groaned, his hands sliding over the curve of her arse and pulling her up again so her hips were balanced back over his and he could grind his cock against her. Her whimpers fuelled his need once more and he decided he’d had enough. Enough teasing, enough of this sweet torture.

 

Keeping his hold on her, and trusting her to grip him in return, he stood. As he’d hoped she wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulder, pressing their chests together. She gave a small giggle, tipping her head back as he latched his lips once more against her neck, sucking and nipping and licking her. She was intoxicating. Addictive. The sudden press of her was almost comforting, and he took a moment to absorb it, letting the heat of her body fuel the fire burning through his veins. But when she used her grip on his shoulders and levered herself up slightly to rub against him he let the moment go.

 

Fitz twisted and lowered her back to the bed before pulling back to stand before her. The lust in her eyes washed away the last of his self-consciousness. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his briefs he tugged them down. While he was bent he snagged his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, retrieving the foil packet he kept in there, although he didn’t immediately open it. He tossed it onto the bed instead, next to where she was reclined, before coming back to her. One knee bent on the mattress and his arms bracing himself on either side of her head, he hovered above her. She gave him a slightly confused look, lifting one of her own arms to tug at the back of his neck, trying to pull him down to her. He complied… sort of. Rather than letting his weight settle over her he bent his elbows, lowering himself just enough that he could kiss her, provided that she lift her head up a little to meet him. Another impatient tug had his lips twisting up into a grin against hers before he retreated, pushing himself up once more so his arms were straightened and he was leaning over her.

 

“Did ye wan’ somethin’, Sassenach?” He whispered, still smirking at the way she looked distinctly unimpressed with his retreat.

 

“I thought you were done with the teasing, Jock?” She growled, wriggling underneath him so she could push herself up on her elbows, bringing their faces closer together.

 

“I told ye,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth, “I’m jus’ gettin’ started.”

 

“Well I’m not.” She huffed. In the blink of an eye Fitz felt his elbows give, causing him to drop towards her, but before he landed his entire weight on her all at once, she somehow managed to flip him onto his back. He stared up at her in stunned silence. “What?” It was her turn to smirk, apparently, because she was looking down at him like the cat who ate the canary.

 

“How did ye…” he trailed off, trying to think over the last moment and work out how she had managed to put him on his back.

 

“I may not be a field agent,” she started in a breathy, distracted voice, rubbing her hips in teasing circles over his, causing her arousal to coat him and making his cock twitch, “But we still have to go through training.”

 

His hands snapped to her hips once more and he tossed his head back. If he’d thought her mouthing him through his boxers had been torture then he didn’t know what this was. The minimal friction was a nightmare, offering no real release, and yet he thought that if she stopped then he would most definitely lose his mind. Their moans mingled together in the air and he managed to force his eyes open just in time to see her tip her own head back, letting her curls cascade down her back and presenting such a vision he temporarily lost his ability to breathe.

 

“Ye’re beautiful,” he murmured so quietly he didn’t think that she had heard him until she tilted forward to look down at him and gave him a smile. It wasn’t wide, but it was stronger than any of her previous ones had been when he’d told her. She tipped her weight forward, coming to rest propped on her forearms which were bracketing his head, causing her chest to press to his and ramping up the heat between them. It was his turn to smile softly when he felt her fingers tunnel into his curls and her blunt nails to scratch against his scalp. His desire was put on hold for a second as he relished in the intimacy of two bodies pressed against one another, sharing a quiet moment before the flood of emotion and chemicals. He felt her nuzzle her nose against his jaw before she replaced it with her lips, working her way up to his ear. When she got there her tongue darted out and flicked his lobe.

 

“I’m beautiful.” For the first time she sounded like she was beginning to believe it, and he turned his head, wanting to see her eyes.

 

She pulled away enough so that he could and he took the time to give her a soft, sweet kiss before he whispered, “Say i’ again?”

 

She took a second to look at him and he felt like he was being studied for something, but she complied eventually. “I’m beautiful.” Her eyes were still a little sceptical, but she looked much more confident in the words. His only reply was to lift his hands from where they’d been rubbing her thighs gently to bury one in her locks and wrapping the other around her waist.

 

“I want t’ be inside ye, lass,” he whispered, still looking into her whiskey depths. She gave a stuttered moan and a small nod before she sat back up. He let her go, releasing his hold he’d had on her in favour of watching her lithe body and the almost imperceptible play of muscle under her fair skin. When he reached for the foil packet he’d tossed on the bed she slapped his hand away, causing him to look up at her in confusion. Before he could voice it, though, she’d snagged up the condom and was carefully ripping it open. Without her eyes leaving his she reached behind her and rolled the protection over him, taking the opportunity to give his aching member a few pumps. He couldn’t help the stuttered groan that left his chest. His hands came up and cupped her elbows, tugging gently.

 

“I told ye, Sassenach, if ye keep teasin’ like tha’ this is goin’ t’ be over far too soon.” There was amusement in his words, somewhere beneath the arousal. She grinned mischievously, biting her lip, but complied, stopping the movement but keeping hold of him. She lifted herself up and as she arched her back, her hips moving back ever so slightly, he felt her heat for a second before he was notched at her entrance and she had let go of him. He watched, entranced, as her eyes fluttered closed and the muscles in her thighs quivered. He wanted to thrust his hips up, to be buried in her completely, but as he watched to way her muscles flexed and the way her lips twisted up into a small smile, he decided this was better. He’d teased her for long enough, taken his pleasure from hers. It was time to let her take her own from his.

 

Her eyes flickered open and met his as she let herself slide down him the rest of the way until she was finally settled over his hips. He realised then that he’d been holding his breath, making him instinctively draw in oxygen. The rush caused his brain to short out for a moment, going into overload coupled with the feeling of finally, _finally_ , being buried in her. He resisted the urge to twist so she was once more on her back and to snap his hips into her in an unforgiving rhythm. Instead, he let her get accustomed to him, to the way he filled her and stretched her. When she dropped her hands to his chest and gave an experimental swivel of her hips he groaned, letting his own hands rub up and down her sides. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but then she moved again and he lost all ability to speak.

 

It was unhurried, leisurely, and like everything else that had happened that afternoon it was everything it shouldn’t have been. He took the time to appreciate the way his desire was burning through his veins, the way she looked above him, so lost in her pleasure as she rocked against him, occasionally using her muscles and her arms on his chest to lift herself up so he almost slid from her entirely before sinking onto him once more. The world had narrowed to them, and to their movements.

 

“ _J- Jock_.” Her stuttered whisper brought her out of the stupor he’d sunk into as he’d watched her.

 

“Yeah, Sassenach?” He whispered back, his brogue low and thick with arousal. She didn’t reply, but brought her hand up from where it had been supporting herself to curl over his shoulder and tug half-heartedly. “Wha’ d’ ye want?”

 

“Can you… can you please... hold me?” It was quiet and vulnerable, and in that moment Leo Fitz had to steel his heart against the inevitable of falling in love with the woman above him. Rather than pulling her down to him, which would have given him the leverage to thrust into her how he wanted, he chose to sit up. The change caused her back to arch and a moan to escape her lips, which he captured with his own. He wrapped his arms around her, one around her waist supporting the arch and the other coming up to hold the back of her neck. When oxygen became an issue he pulled back just far enough to trail kisses up to her hairline and he held there, breathing her in, the scent of her perfume, the subtle traces of fruit from her shampoo, and that same essence that he’d smelt on her skin and on _her_ earlier.

 

Her mouth was now level with his ear, but she wasn’t kissing him, or teasing him. Her lips were just there. He occasionally felt them brushing against the shell when she gasped or moaned.

 

Fitz lost time. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, rocking against one another. There was no hurry to finish. They were both revelling in the slow building pleasure. He occasionally had to stop to prevent himself from getting carried away. She’d said before that she thought he was going to be selfish; he was determined to prove her wrong. This was about her. He would take his turn later, but she was the only thing that mattered to him at the moment. Her and her pleasure. By now their bodies were covered in sweat, making their skin slide gently. The heat between them was intense.

 

She gave an uncontrolled jerk of her hips, accompanied by a moan that was louder than her previous ones. He could tell she was getting close.

 

“P- Please.” That one word obliterated his satisfaction with their slow rhythm. He kissed her hard, letting his tongue duel with hers. When her hips twitched against him again he gave in.

 

With his arms wrapped around her to keep her pressed against him, he twisted, toppling to the side, toppling them both onto the mattress. Her breathing stuttered against his lips but her smile was back. He smiled in return, giving her a gentle squeeze before shuffling away from her.

 

As he’d expected she wasn’t so satisfied with this turn of events. In fact, she looked hurt. She didn’t reach out for him like he’d expected. Instead, she drew her arms in and tried to cover herself.

 

“No, no.” He muttered leaning into her to try and kiss her, but she rolled away from him. No matter how much he wanted to stroke her, to bring her back to him, he knew she wouldn’t allow it. “Sassenach? Sassenach, I’m no’ goin’ anywhere. I promise. I want t’ do somethin’ bu’ I cannae do i’ like tha’.” The words were whispered, and even he could hear the apology in his voice. She didn’t make any move to indicate she’d heard him. “Lass?”

 

“What did you want to do?” She said eventually without turning towards him. He let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t shut down.

 

“Can… Can I touch ye, Sassenach?” He asked, reaching out his hand but not touching her, just letting it hover over her skin so he could feel the heat radiating from her skin and she could do the same. It felt like an eternity before he saw her nod her head, the breath he’d been holding rushing from his chest. He didn’t comply immediately, giving her another moment to herself. He shuffled closer to her back where she was curled into foetal position and gently laid his hand on her waist. He felt her draw in a breath, and waited until he felt it release before he closed the final scant inch and pressed his chest to her back. It was another tense moment before she relaxed a little, but when she did he let himself relax too, wrapping his arm around her more securely and holding her to him. Her breathing was shaky, but he had expected nothing less after the scare she’d just had. “Ye okay?” He whispered, nuzzling into the back of her neck. Her fingers came up and tangled with his where his hand was resting on the bed in front of her, and then pulled their joined hands up to nestle between her breasts.

 

“You scared me.” He knew the words were coming, had thought them to himself just a second ago, but hearing them in her English accent, hearing how shaken she was, tore at his heart as much as hearing her saying she wasn’t beautiful in the lift had. He’d caused this. It was his fault. He’d tried all afternoon to show her how beautiful she was, how she deserved to be taken care of, but he’d managed to cock it all up in a moment.

 

“’M sorry,” he murmured, trailing his lips over her shoulder without actually kissing. She relaxed a bit more, causing her shoulder to droop into a more natural position than where it was hunched over. He took it as a good sign.

 

No more words were exchanged as they stayed spooned together. Their arousal and desire had been placed on the back burner, for the moment, but he couldn’t help the way his cocked twitched against her arse when she shuffled her hips. He let out a frustrated groan, dropping his forehead to rest against the back of her shoulder.

 

“Ignore tha’.” A second later he heard her giggle. Relief flooded his veins and he couldn’t help the small chuckle he released either. They were going to be okay. “Wha’s so funny?”

 

“This. Us. God, I don’t even know your name but I’m acting like you’ve just killed my cat or something.”

 

“Wai’, ye’re a ca’ person?” He joked as he contemplated his next move. He wanted to make this better, _had_ to make this better. He made his mind up. “Do ye want t’ know my name?” She stilled in his arms, tilting her head so he could just see the corner of her eye.

 

“I do,” she whispered, and he opened his mouth but she carried on before he could speak, “But not right now. Later.”

 

He nodded, going back to pressing kisses to the skin he could reach, but she wasn’t done.

 

“What I want right now, is to get back to what we were doing before I acted like an insecure girl.” He felt her roll her hips back against his for emphasis, causing his cock to nudge against her. His breath stuttered out on a moan and he felt rather than heard her giggle again.

 

“Ye sure, baby girl?” He asked even as he rocked in counter point to her own movements.

 

“I’m sure. What did you want to do?”

 

“This fo’ now,” he murmured, sliding the arm that had been pillowing his head under her neck to tangle with the fingers his other hand had just released, letting the newly freed one stroke down her front. He paused to cup and knead both her breasts in turn. As much as he wanted to once more be buried in her, he wanted to get her back to the same pleasured oblivion that she’d been in before he’d been an arse. From the way she shivered and rolled her hips he decided it was the right thing to do.

 

He took his time moving his hand down her front, making sure to stretch his fingers so his palm covered as much skin as possible. When he reached the curls at the juncture of her thighs he cupped her, letting her grow accustomed to his touch once again.

 

“Ye beautiful,” he murmured in her ear, pressing his lips to the skin underneath. She didn’t say it. “Hey,” he whispered, kissing her again before lifting his wrist to nudge her chin, getting her to twist so he could see her. “Ye believe me, don’ ye?”

 

“I’m getting there,” she replied with a small smile, turning away to press a kiss of her own to the back of his hand. He sighed, but didn’t press her to say it. That game was over. He snuggled closer to her back as his fingers over her began to probe her folds gently. She was still warm and wet, which made the slide of his fingers over her clit so much easier. The friction against the little nub made her buck her hips. “No… no teasing.” She murmured, clutching his fingers tightly. Her other hand crossed over her front to clutch at his forearm.

 

“Okay,” he whispered, giving her one last brush of his fingers before pulling his hand back. Reaching between them he stroked his hand up and down his shaft a couple of times, bringing himself back to being fully erect, before moving her leg up gently to rest over his. It only took a second and then he was once more sinking into her heat.

 

Their moans mingled in the air again, and as soon as he was filling her he wrapped his arms around her tightly, clutching her back to him. She whimpered when he gently thrust his hips into her, and it only took a breath before she was pushing her hips back to meet him. Her muscles fluttered around him and he was amazed at how quickly she had been brought back to the edge. He felt the coil twist tighter in him, and it wasn’t long before he felt like he was going to break.

 

“Please. Please, I want to... let me…” She seemed in capable of completing a sentence, but he felt the same, he knew exactly what it was that she wanted because he was desperate for himself now too. He brought his hand to her hip, squeezing gently.

 

“God, ye’re perfec’.” He moaned, slipping his fingers down to her folds and pressing them just above her clit. The answering moan was high pitched and full of need.

 

“God, _please_!”

 

Her cry broke him. His hips snapped forward, the new rhythm disjointed and hard and desperate as his fingers strummed over her clit. Her fingers that were still tangled with his at her chest tightened at the same time that she shook apart around him.

 

Her climax fed into his, and it wasn’t a second later that he felt the coil that had been winding in him release and his mind went blank. White hot pleasure erupted through him and it wasn’t until he could distinguish his limbs that he realised he’d been whispering sweet nothings to her.

 

Being careful not to overstimulate her, appreciating that she would be sensitive, he withdrew his fingers from her. Their heaving breaths were the only noises now they’d calmed down some and he revelled in it. Just as he was about to retreat from the bed to take care of the now uncomfortable condom, he heard her mumble something, but couldn’t quite make out the words.

 

“Wha’ was tha’, Sassenach?” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

 

“Jemma. My name’s Jemma.”

 

The grin that spread across his face was completely involuntary, as all of them had been around her. He graced her shoulder with another kiss, nipping playfully at the ball.

 

“Jemma.” He repeated, testing it out. It fit. Precious.

 

“What? Is your name Jemma too?” That got her a full blown laugh. One more kiss and then he pulled away, trying to ignore the whimper she gave when he withdrew, but it only succeeding in making him want to get back to her as soon as he could. He crossed the room to the en suite and took a moment to remove the spent protection, wrapping it in a tissue before dropping it in the waste bin. It was then that he noticed the slight sting on his shoulders from where she’d clutched at him and her nails, blunt as they were, had left little crescent moons, not deep enough to split the skin, but enough to draw blood just beneath the surface. He didn’t mind though – in fact, he quite liked the little marks. Taking the opportunity and the moment alone, he didn’t stop the stupid grin that made its way over his features. Sure, he’d smiled a lot this afternoon for someone who had just been fired, but there was an undercurrent of satisfaction. He was sure that he’d just been ruined for anyone else… and yet…

 

“You alive in there?” He heard her call and realised that he’d been there much longer than intended.

 

“Yeah, hold on!” He replied, splashing some water on his face and patting it dry.

 

When he re-emerged into the main room he paused at the sight that greeted him. She’d got up and pulled on her underwear and was just in the processes of clipping her bra back together, with her back to him. For some reason, seeing her putting her clothes back on was almost more intimate than him taking them off had been. Glancing around he located his boxers and tugged them on before stepping up behind her where she was now folding her jeans and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back into his chest and he ducked his head to rest on her shoulder, his nose buried in the curls at her neck.

 

“Wha’ time is i’?”

 

“Nearly 6,” she said. She heaved a sigh and tossed the jeans over to the chair in the corner, apparently having given up on folding them. “Did you want to get something to eat?” His stomach growled loudly before he could answer and he had the good graces to look embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck as she twisted to face him, a laugh falling from her lips. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

 

“Alrigh’, alrigh’,” he grumbled with no real heat behind the words, “Wha’ were ye wantin’?”

 

“Hmmm,” she hummed, leaning her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around his waist, “I’m too tired to go out. Want to order room service?”

 

“Soun’s good t’ me,” he replied, brushing a kiss to her forehead before disentangling himself from her and retrieving what looked like the menu off the top of the dresser and flopping onto his back on the bed. Giving it a quick glance he made up his mind and handed it to her. “’M jus’ going t’ ge’ the lamb burger.”

 

He tuned out as she placed the order, vaguely noting that she had ordered a lamb and pumpkin salad for herself, as well as a slice of chocolate cake. Picking up the remote he glanced at her to see if she was okay with him turning on the TV set. She nodded, so he did, making sure to keep the volume turned right down, and switched it to the news channel. The familiar chime of his cell phone surprised him and he groaned before crawling off the bed and dragging the offending piece of tech from the pocket of his jeans.

 

_1 New Message_

 

He tapped the notification and opened the message.

 

Lance Hunter (18:09): werent u suposd to be home frm work an hour ago?

 

The chime went off again before he could reply.

 

Lance Hunter (18:11): pls tell me u didnt fget that u prmsd to come for dinner w bobbi and archer?

 

He groaned loudly, flopping backwards again and pulling a pillow down to cover his face.

 

“Um… everything okay Jock?” She tugged the pillow from his face and he saw the confused look on her face. He realised that he hadn’t told her his name and gave her an apologetic glance.

 

“Fitz. Sorry, my name’s Fitz. And nothin’s wrong. My mate is gettin’ married an’ I’m supposed t’ be goin’ to dinner with him an’ his fiancée and her kid tonigh’ and I forgo’.”

 

“Fitz? That’s obviously not your first name,” she started and he glanced at her out the corner of his eye, but she wasn’t pressing for details. When he mentioned his forgotten dinner plans she visibly deflated and he cursed himself for how it probably looked – like he was trying to get away from her. Determined not to let her slip away like she almost had earlier, he rolled over and pressed a kiss to her knee before sitting up.

 

“Give me a minute.” He pulled up Lance’s contact and hit the call button, bringing the phone to his ear with one hand and reaching behind him to brush his fingers over her leg.

 

_“Fitz, where are you, man? You’re supposed to be here in 10.”_

“Listen, Hunter, I’m no’ gonna make i’.” He tried to sound as apologetic as he could, but probably failed considering Jemma had shuffled up behind him to rest her head on his shoulder.

 

_“What do you mean you’re not gonna make it? Archer’s been talking about seeing you again all week!”_

Fitz groaned at the guilt trip his friend was leading him down. He’d only met the kid once when he’d been spending time with Lance and he’d swung by Fitz’s place to pick up the last of his stuff, but the boy had kind of attached himself to the Scot, and for all his grumpy exterior, he couldn’t deny that he quite liked him. He was smart for a 10 year old – not as smart as Fitz had been, but smart nonetheless – and as all boys at that age, he enjoyed building and destroying things. When Lance had told him that Fitz basically did both those things for a job it was like the kid had found a new superhero.

 

“Tell the little guy I’m sorry, bu’ I’m really no’ gonna make i’ tonigh’. I’ll make i’ up t’ him though. Tell him I’ll stop by his football game tomorrow.”

 

 _“Fine, but you still haven’t told me why you won’t make it.”_ His friend probed.

 

“Honestly? I los’ my job today, an’ hi’ the pub early.” It was a half-truth, and he hoped that Jemma wasn’t going to be offended by his omission of her company, but he didn’t really want to deal with Hunter’s questions right at that moment.

 

 _“Fitz, man, I’m sorry,”_ he heard Lance start, but tuned him out. He didn’t want to listen to his friend’s platitudes right then. What he did want was to get back to the woman pressed against his back, and to relaxing with her for the rest of the night, ignoring the shit storm that awaited him outside the hotel room.

 

There was a knock on the door, accompanied by a male voice calling “room service”. Jemma shuffled out from behind him and made her way to the door. It took him throwing a pillow at her for her to turn back to him. He gestured to himself while giving her a pointed look, hoping that she’d get his meaning and remember she was only in her matching bra and panties set. With a little squeak she seemed to understand, and she ducked into the en suite to pull on the fluffy white robe before answering the door. He was grateful when she chose to take the trolley from the man and pull it into the room, rather than letting him wheel it in, as it gave him time to step into his jeans and pull them up. He knew he wouldn’t be able to do them up one handed, but that was fine. Taking the opportunity while she was rooting around trying to find her wallet, he snagged his off the floor and glanced at the receipt on the trolley before pulling out the appropriate cash and paying the guy at the door, still cradling the phone to his ear as Hunter carried on.

 

The man nodded his thanks and left, letting Fitz kick the door closed gently just as Jemma made an ‘ah-ha’ noise somewhere behind him. He turned to see her triumphant face for only a second before she realised what he’d done.

 

“Hey- ” she started, but seeing him still on the phone she stopped and just glared at him. He shrugged one shoulder and smirked at the look she was giving him for a second before Lance’s next words registered in his ear.

 

_“Did I just- Fitz, was that a chick? You lying bastard, you’re with some chick right now, aren’t you?! You’re blowing dinner with my fiancée and her kid off for some bird you met while pity drinking at a bar?”_

“Hunter, I’ve got t’ go. I promise I’ll be a’ Archer’s football game, okay. See you an’ Bobbi then.” He rushed out and he hung up before his friend could protest. In the time that he’d finished up his call, Jemma had cleared all the papers off of the table in the corner and replaced them with the food. Two beers were produced from the fridge as well, with tops removed. “This looks good, thanks.”

 

“And just why did you feel it necessary to pay?” She asked with only a hint of anger.

 

“Ye paid f’ my drinks at the bar, I paid f’ room service. Fair’s fair.” He shrugged and took the seat where his burger was set out. When she didn’t immediately join him he glanced back at where she was standing, still wrapped in the robe, arms crossed. “Wha’?”

 

“I really wish you didn’t. It would have just gone on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s dime.”

 

He stood up and crossed to her, taking her upper arms in his hands and smiling. “Jemma, are ye abusin’ ye’re companies expenses accoun’s?”

 

“No!” She cried indignantly, giving his chest a push. She left her hand there so he could felt her thumb brushing arcs against his skin. “I’m not abusing anything – this is exactly what expense accounts are for.”

 

“Room service f’ yer afternoon companion?” The words didn’t feel right, but it was better than saying ‘your afternoon fuck’.

 

“Companion?” So she’d noticed the odd wording too. He felt a flush creep up his cheeks but he didn’t try to correct it. His stomach made itself known again though, and he was almost grateful for the interruption, sure that he was going to say something stupid if he did speak up, something like he was sure that he was halfway to falling for her. “Come on then, food’s going to be getting cold.” She snagged her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans and tugged him with her.

 

They ate their meals in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The chocolate cake was split between them. He only took a couple of bites, sweets weren’t really his thing. When all the plates were clear he stood, putting them back on the trolley and wheeling it out to the corridor.

 

He stripped off his jeans when he was back in the room and crawled to join her where she was no lying on her side on the bed, the only light in the room now coming from the far bedside lamp. She’d taken the robe off, so she was back to just being in the matching underwear. Rather than facing her he settled on his back, one arm curled under his head and the other held out in invitation. She accepted, sliding across the minimal space between them and curling into his side. She set her head on his shoulder and brought one arm up to draw patterns over the skin of his chest. He, in turn, traced his fingers over her side, gently mapping her ribcage between the strap of her bra and the band of her underwear, taking stock of the dip of her waist, the flair of her hip.

 

The quiet continued and Fitz felt his eye lids beginning to droop. With his stressful morning, the booze he’d consumed at the pub, the pleasant but draining afternoon, and now the food sitting in his stomach, a deep exhaustion set into his body.

 

“’M fallin’ asleep on ye, Jemma,” he murmured, turning to nuzzle the crown of her head and pressing a delicate kiss to her curls.

 

“Mmm, I think a nap is in order,” she whispered, and he felt her breath blow out over his chest.

 

“As long as i’ is jus’ a nap. ‘M no’ done with ye ye’.” He punctuated his promise with another kiss before shuffling to get comfortable, bringing his arm down from under his head to tangle with her fingers at his chest. She moved slightly too, one leg sliding over to rest between his own, making her body lay more solidly against his own. The warmth of her was the final thing he needed to fall into a comfortable sleep.

 

*        *        *

 

He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but when he felt consciousness tugging at the edges of his dream he was loathe to wake, but the uncomfortable pressure against his bladder kind of made it a necessity. He dragged his eyes open, pleased to see that the room was still only dimly lit. Deciding he could take a few minutes he just lay there, appreciating the way his sleeping companion was still snuggled against him.

 

When the time came for him to move, he slid out from next to her, bringing the pillow that he’d been using down to replace his torso. He grinned at the way she snuggled into the replacement support, a little crinkle appearing in her brow when she noticed that it didn’t hold the same warmth that he did. Satisfied that she wasn’t going to wake he moved as quietly as possible to the en suite.

 

Business taken care of, Fitz made his way back to the bed. She hadn’t stirred from where he’d left her. The vulnerable, relaxed state she was in seemed to highlight the natural beauty he’d seen in her all along and he was struck with a sudden urge to draw her. Moving as quietly as possible, he pulled on his jeans before manoeuvring one of the chairs around so it was at his side of the bed, letting him face her and still giving him enough light to work, and settled, pad of hotel stationery and pen in hand.

 

It took a few tried until he was satisfied that he’d captured her as well as could, given his crude tools. He would love to be able to dedicate the time to do a proper portrait on thick art paper with charcoal, maybe another done in pencil. He could see them taking form in his mind and a melancholy settled over him when he realised that that would probably never happen. Oh, he knew that he’d draw her again, but he would never get the chance to spend the afternoon with her posing for him. His memory would fade. He’d forget the little things first, like the way the freckles were so faint on her forehead, but still there, or the way the wispy hair in front of her ears curled into sweet little ringlets. And then the bigger details would begin to disappear. The exact whiskey colour of her irises, how her eyes were set a little wider than her traditional sense of beauty, the way her lips didn’t quite match up (the bottom was set minutely off to the right). But despite all this he knew that he would never forget _her_. Like he’d thought earlier, he was dangerously close to being half in love with her after just half a day together.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

He looked up from his drawing to see her eyes slowly blinking open and a smile twisting at her lips. The drawing tools were dropped on his vacated chair and he took the time to kick off the loose jeans before joining her once more. This time when he laid down she didn’t just curl into his side. Instead, she crawled on top of him, tucking her head under his chin and stroking her fingers down his arm. He let her get situated, and, when she’d stopped wriggling, wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her in a gentle hug before loosening them to just hold her.

 

“Comfortable?” There was amusement in his still sleep roughened voice.

 

“Mmm,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to the skin of his neck, “You didn’t answer my question.”

 

“I was jus’ sketchin’.”

 

“You can draw?”

 

“Yeah, kinda.” Modest wasn’t usually his style, but for some reason, around her, he was keen to keep himself in check. Maybe because she seemed just as bright, if not brighter than him, and that was rare.

 

“What were you drawing?” Her voice indicated that she was waking little by little as they talked.

 

“Why?” He was interested to know how long she had been awake – apparently not long enough to know that he’d been studying her.

 

“You just looked like you were concentrating really hard on it. Are you an artist?”

 

“God no,” he snorted, shaking his head, “I’m no’ tha’ good. ‘M an engineer.”

 

“Oh, really?” Her entire demeanour perked up at that. She pushed herself up so he could see her face, taking note of the way her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “What’s your specialty?”

 

“I don’ really have one,” he confessed, shrugging as her brows drew together in confusion. “I can do a bi’ of everythin’.”

 

“So… what were you doing for your job?” She asked slowly before she seemed to realise what she’d asked. “Sorry, that was tactless. What’s your favourite field then?”

 

He smiled at her apology. The reminder of his now unemployed job status was unwelcome, but he let it go. “I’s okay. I _was_ doin’ some civil stuff, bu’ my main interes’s are electrical and non-lethal weaponry.”

 

“Non-lethal weaponry? I can’t imagine there’s much of a market for that in the private sector?”

 

“There’s really no’,” he confessed, shrugging a shoulder, “Tha’s why all tha’ stuff is done in my own time.”

 

“Interesting,” she said, and it looked like she was genuine. “I can tell you right now that that’s the kind of thing that they’re interested in over at Stark Industries. Tony said that he wanted to look into some possible non-lethal options for his suit, as well as things that could be manufactured for law enforcement.” The casual way she dropped the billionaires name surprised him, and he couldn’t resist commenting.

 

“Tony, huh? Ye always name drop like tha’, or do ye have a bi’ of a crush on Iron Man?” She stuck her tongue out at him making him chuckle as he contemplated her words. Stark Industries was any engineers dream job. The freedom Stark’s R&D department had was stuff of legend among most PhD programmes, and even he had fantasised about the opportunity to work at the Avengers tower. If he was being honest, the only reason why he hadn’t gone onto Stark after receiving his second PhD was that he’d moved back to Scotland temporarily to help his aunt out after his uncle had passed away, and had taken up a civil engineering job in Glasgow for the two years he was there. The owner of the company had been a family friend, who was more than willing to hire Fitz considering he could remember how innovative and creative he had been as child when given Meccano and Lego and Air Fix kits. The experience that he’d got there had helped him land a position at the company he had been with since his return to the States five years ago.

 

Lips pressed to his startled him from his musings. He reacted instinctively, closing his eyes and giving as good as he got, carding the fingers of one hand through her curls and squeezing her hip with the other. When she pulled back he took a moment before opening his eyes and grinning at her.

 

“Wha’ was tha’ for?”

 

“I called your name at least twice.” She said, her eyebrow raised and a flush over her cheeks.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled through a small smile. It was a habit that he’d been called up on all through his childhood; when he got on a train of thought he often withdrew into his head until he’d mapped it out completely, be it a design for making improvements to his mother’s washing machine or alterations to his uncle’s classic car collection to make them more economical to drive.

 

She distracted him before he could draw back into himself, trailing kisses from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, then up to his ear. “What happened to ‘I’m not done with you yet’?” She breathed, nipping at his lobe and soothing the sting by sucking it into her mouth. A shiver ran down his spine, making him wrap his arms around her tightly.

 

“Wanted t’ give ye a chance to wake up so ye can fully appreciate my efforts.” He quipped in a voice that was far breathier than the cocky words required.

 

She hummed against the skin of his neck, shuffling down his body as she drew her lips down the tendon. “Well I’m awake now.”

 

“Good.” He was distracted from his vague plan when she nuzzled her way across his chest, setting her teeth against the sensitive skin over his collarbones. “ _God._ ”

 

When she moved off of him he let out an involuntary whimper, not wanting to lose the feel of her curves against him. A giggle reached his ears and he glared at her half-heartedly. The saucy minx actually smirked at him from where she was now trailing hot, open mouth kisses down his sternum and over his abdomen. Her fingers trailed along the waist of his boxers, giving them the occasionally tug until his hips were exposed and the thin trail of hair from his navel began to thicken slightly. Her next kisses were chaste, pressed to the thin and sensitive skin over his hip bones, with her teeth occasionally nipping. He sucked in a breath feeling like all his blood had left his extremities, concentrating in his now throbbing cock. He desperately wanted to be buried in her, especially now that he knew what he felt like, but he also – selfishly – wanted her to continue what she was doing after getting a tease of it earlier. As she settled between his legs, which had moved to accommodate her body sliding down his, she sat back, giving him an intense look.

 

“These need to come off.” She demanded, pulling the elasticated band of his underwear up and releasing it so it snapped against his lower abdomen and making him jump.

 

“Hey!” He cried, sitting up quickly and catching her in the circle of his arms as she toppled back with laughter. Her own arms looped around his neck and the smile he was rewarded with was wide, and playful, and honest, and made the breath catch in his throat. “Now tha’ wasnae nice, Sassenach.” He whispered, taking his turn to nip at her neck and shoulder, making sure to only leave a little mark on the top of her shoulder where she would be able to easily hide it later.

 

“Oh, back to the name calling are we, Jock?” She giggled tipping her head to the side so he had better access to his neck. He hummed contemplatively against her skin, noting that her perfume no longer lingered, letting him smell just pure and unaltered _her_. He thought he might just like it more than the subtly sweet floral tones.

 

“We are when ye do things like tha’,” he said, giving the band of her own underwear a small ping to illustrate his point. It was her turn to squirm and laugh this time, shoving at his shoulders to push him back down, and when he didn’t immediately acquiesce she used her own body weight to move him, following him down. The next kisses they exchanged still had a hint of playfulness, but had mostly gone back to passionate and intense. Taking the opportunity now so he wouldn’t have to stop later, he brought his hands up to unsnap her bra, felling rather than hearing her little exhale of a giggle she gave into his mouth when she felt it. “Wha’? I learn from my mistakes.” He said, giving her a look of feigned wide eyed innocence when she pulled away to discard the now useless item, rolling her eyes at the same time.

 

“It would be more helpful if you did as I asked earlier and removed your own underwear.” To this end she didn’t settle back against him, moving to his side so he could wriggle out of the confining material. As soon as he’d kicked them off though, she was back, straddling one of his thighs, running her hands over the opposite in a way that was both equally relaxing and arousing.

 

The quiet of the room, with only the dim light of the bedside lamp, and the way the double glazed windows muffled the city noise enough to make it sound so far away created a cocoon of intimacy between them. Rather than trying to remind himself that this was just a one night stand, and that she was from out of town, only here on business, and that he was now unemployed whereas she worked for a secret government organisation that he didn’t trust on principal, he let himself relax and get carried away in the moment. Choosing instead to let her tease him and awaken every nerve in his body, he closed his eyes, breathing her in.

 

Her first touch drew a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes stayed closed as her fingers trailed in barely-there paths over his sensitive flesh, only opening when she took him into her hand and moved up and down his shaft. Somewhere in the back of his overstimulated mind he was aware that she was only doing something that he’d done to himself a number of times, and that he had had done to him by other’s in the past (he wouldn’t deny that), but for some reason it felt so different. Where his hand was rough and calloused from fiddling with his gadgets, and the hands of other’s had been sloppy and hurried, often after one too many drinks before a quick fuck, hers were small, almost delicate, and her movements sure and steady. He wanted more. He wanted to be surrounded by her.

 

Bringing one of his hands up from where it had been twisted in the sheet underneath him he slid it around to the back of her neck, squeezing gently in a silent request, unwilling to break the comforting quiet of the room. She moved, tilting forward and supporting herself on her elbow which ended up planted above his shoulder. When she was close enough he lifted his head, capturing her lips in a kiss to rival all of their previous kisses. The new angle must have strained her wrist, however, because the next time she moved her hand up his shaft she twisted her wrist, resulting in a jolt of sensation tightening the coil in his belly and him releasing her lips with a gasp. His breaths were laboured now, and his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was feeling without being overwhelmed by his other senses.

 

The leg she was still straddling twitched and he was suddenly very aware of where she was pressed against him. Though she was still wearing the lace that passed as underwear he could feel the heat of her against the suddenly sensitive skin. When he moved his leg next it was intentional, pressing up just enough to push against her centre. The aforementioned lace was damp and he let out a choked noise, realising once again that this was for him. She was wet because of him, and not because of what he was doing to her, rather, because of what _she_ was doing to _him._ As though she’d read his thoughts she ground herself down on him and let out a moan of her own at the friction. He knew the pressure was teasing, but he couldn’t resist keeping it up, tensing his quad and rocking his leg in counterpoint to her own movements.

Lips trailed over his jaw, down to his throat, pausing at his thrumming pulse, and distracting him entirely from his distracted teasing. An odd pulling made him moan, especially when she combined it with the same twist at the top of her stroke. If she kept this up he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. At least this time he wasn’t exactly concentrating on what was to come.

 

He felt her shuffling down his body again, and he missed the feel of her against him. That thought was chased from his mind, however, when he felt her lips brush his twitching cock, making it jump in response. His hand had fallen away from her neck when she moved, and he clenched the sheet between his fingers, restraining himself from grabbing her.

 

With almost no warning at all the head of his penis was suddenly sucked into the hot, wet confines of her mouth, and her tongue was pressed to the tip and stars were bursting behind his eyes. The coil in his belly tightened once more and the moan he released was deep and affected and almost sounded like ‘Jemma’.

 

He was lost then. All coherent thought fled as she began to work him with her mouth, her hand still gripping and occasionally pumping the base where her mouth didn’t reach as the other came up and massaged his balls. He was vaguely aware that he was murmuring words, but he didn’t think that they would make any sense, considering his own thoughts weren’t making sense. When he felt her cheeks hollow, sucking him hard as she took him as deep as she could into her mouth he knew he was done for.

 

“Je- _Chris’_ – Jemma,” he managed to groan, the restraint needed to keep his hands from knotting in her hair and startling her and his hips snapping forward faltered for a second, but he stopped himself short of twisting his fingers in her hair by grabbing her shoulder and squeezing what he hoped was gently, but was probably a bit harder than intended. “Jemma, I’m.. close.” He wouldn’t blame her if she pulled away, but when she just redoubled her efforts he didn’t try to hold back. The sudden rush of warmth through him was his only warning before stars burst behind his closed eyelids and he felt like he was breaking, the coil springing loose and his hips jerking.

 

A high pitched whine filled his ears, and he was floating, being carried away on a wave of chemicals and oxygen and it was only the gentle hands rubbing over his chest that kept him grounded.

 

It felt like hours for him to come back down, but he knew in reality it wasn’t that long, a few minutes at most. She was still perched over his leg, and he could still feel the heat of her own arousal on his skin, but her smile was soft, caring, and a little smug.

 

“Hey,” she murmured, continuing to let her fingers trace over his pectoral muscles.

 

“Hey,” he replied, slightly hoarse, and definitely still affected. His own smile was a little slow, his brain still trying to catch up to reality after the endorphin rush of a really intense orgasm. He stroked his own hands down her arms taking a moment to revel in the wake of his high when he noticed the red marks on her upper arm. “God, Jem, did I do tha’?” It was a rhetorical question. He knew he’d done it but he couldn’t quite believe it. He managed to sit up, ignoring the little head rush he got at the change in position in favour of examining the mark. Sure enough there were five finger marks in the exact imprint of his hand tattooed in red against her pale, delicate skin. “Jemma, I didnae-”

 

“Hey, shh,” she shushed him, bring one hand over to take his fingers from where they were trailing over the mark, bringing it up to her lips to kiss tenderly. “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt.”

 

“Is i’… is i’ goin’ t’ bruise?” He whispered, not meeting her eyes. With his free hand he moved her hair away so he could see the mark properly.

 

“No. I know that it looks bad now, but it’s just ‘cos I’m so pasty.” She tried to joke, releasing his fingers and nudging his chin with her fingers, trying to get him to look up at her. He didn’t straight away, pressing a delicate and barely-there kiss to the mark first. When he met her eyes he didn’t see any of the trepidation that he’d expected, instead she looked rather… happy?

 

“’M sorry.”

 

She met his apology with a kiss, and not one that was chaste and sweet. It was deep, and passionate and full of emotion, and when she rocked her hips against his thigh and pressed her still hot, damp centre against him, he knew that she was trying to distract him. Pulling away he pressed kisses down her neck until he reached the mark again, and taking his time to brush his lips carefully over each finger and one in the centre.

 

“Fitz, stop. I’m okay. It won’t bruise, I promise. Don’t beat yourself up about it. Call it a kink but I actually kind of like having a little reminder.” The words caused him to still, equally surprised and aroused. How this woman managed to flip his switch from concerned and a little self-disgusted to turned on completely baffled him. Apparently satisfied that she had his attention she rolled her hips again, giving a little moan before continuing. “Now, are you going to touch me or am I going to have to take matters into my own hands?” And once again his brain shorted out.

 

Images of her touching herself flooded his imagination and he didn’t realise that he’d managed to stop breathing again until a sharp pinch on his arm made him inhale.

 

“You know, I never realised that was actually a thing for guys…” It was worded as a mused thought, spoken aloud, but her tone was flat.

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised quickly, twisting so that she was planted on her back and she was braced above her again, “’M still a bi’ hazy, an’ ye cannae spring somethin’ like tha’ on a man when ye’ve jus’ givin’ him a mind blowin’ orgasm.”

 

She laughed and he knew he was forgiven for unintentionally ignoring her.

 

“Mind blowing, huh? Well, you’ve got a lot to live up to then.”

 

“Oh, is tha’ a challenge?” He asked, pulling is head from where he’d just been dropping it to trail kisses over her collarbone. “I though’ I gave ye a’ leas’ one of them earlier?”

 

“Hmm, I suppose you did…” she murmured slightly distractedly, he guessed because he was now planting open mouth kisses with the occasionally dart of his tongue to the swell of her breast, moving purposefully down to the pebbled nipple. When he reached his destination he took his time, rolling the sensitive bud between his lips before sucking it into his mouth. From the way she was moaning and her fingers were scrabbling for purchase in his curls, he figured that it was appreciated. “I swear to God, Fitz, if you tease me again, I’m going to-” She cut off on a particularly loud moan when he set his teeth against her. He couldn’t help the cocky smirk that spread over his lips when he retreated.

 

“Ye’ll wha’, lass?” He didn’t wait before he pressed kisses further down her body, felt her muscles clench and release in response to the stimulation. Her choked gasp when he nipped at her the skin over her hip like she’d done to him earlier told him that she wasn’t going to be forming coherent sentences anytime soon if he had a say in it.

 

He wasted no more time pulling her panties off, although he did appreciate the way they clung to her sex a little. He wanted to taste her again, so he slide down, gently pulling her knees apart so he could settle between her. When the cool air of the room hit her heated flesh she whimpered, and tried to close her legs again, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he traced his finger down her slit and collected some of her slickness, grinning again when her hips jerked at his touch.

 

Self-control was apparently not one of his strengths around Jemma, and as he licked her arousal off his finger he lost the last of it. His lips and tongue went to work on her, sucking and flicking and trying to taste every inch of her. When her hips started to lift to meet his mouth he brought one arm up to pin her again, and once more let her tangle their fingers together. He enjoyed this. In the past he’d never really taken a great amount of pleasure from oral sex. He’d do it, because he knew it was appreciated (mostly), but he never really got anything from the act. Like everything that day though, she proved to be an outlier. He didn’t know if it was the way she was so honest about her pleasure, or if it was just that she’d somehow managed to come in as a bright spot in his crappy day that just kept getting brighter, but this was making the fire in his belly begin to flame again.

 

“I- I need you. Fitz, please, I need you in me.” It wasn’t choked or moaned out. The words were sure, despite the little stutter at the start. The way she said his name did something to him, made his heart clench and his cock twitch.

 

“Give me a minu’e,” he rasped, coming up and pressing a couple of kisses to her stomach before rolling off the bed. His wallet was on the dresser where he’d tossed it after he’d paid for their room service, and he retrieved the last condom from within, ripping the packet open and rolling it on as quickly as possible. How he was fully erect in such a short amount of time was a wonder, but he didn’t dwell.

 

When he turned back to the bed he stopped in his tracks. She was touching herself. Nothing that he’d imagined before compared to the reality of seeing her, splayed before him with her fingers between her folds.

 

“Are ye tryin’ t’ kill me?” He whispered, almost entirely unaware of the fact that his own hand had come down to stroke himself. Her answering laugh was cut off by a moan when she touched her fingers to her clit and he crossed the room as fast as possible, settling at the foot of the bed but making no move to interrupt her. Her hand stilled and he almost whimpered himself. “No, don’ stop.”

 

She looked a little tentative, but did as he asked, continuing to circle her fingers through her folds and rub the little bundle of nerves. The longer he watched, though, the more relaxed she became. Soon enough she was clenching the sheets with her free hand, her head tipped back and little moans and gasps were released with every breath. That was enough. He needed to be in her. Now.

 

He was hovering over her, catching her wrist with his hand, in a split second. The moment he tugged her hand away she let out a cry of ‘no’ and almost sat up, but he used his other hand to line himself up at her entrance, and thrust into her in the next breath. She went silent, her breath cut off, eyes wide open and lips still formed around the ‘o’ of her previous cry.

 

This was nothing like the previous time they were joined. There was no tentative touches, no whispered words other than the occasional ‘oh, God’ or ‘yes’. Her knees were hitched high up on his sides, tilting her hips so that every time he thrust into her he brushed that spot that he’d found when he’d been touching her earlier.

 

In no time at all he felt her walls clenching and fluttering, and he released her wrists from where he’d pinned them above her.

 

“Touch yerself,” he growled into her ear, giving a particularly hard thrust and making her breath catch against her vocal chords. There was no hesitancy this time, and when he felt her fingers slide down between them and felt the pressure of them against where they were joined, he gave an animalistic roar. As she shattered around him he continued to pound into her, chasing the high he felt swelling over him.

 

His own orgasm broke, sending him once again into oblivion. Even though it wasn’t as intense as earlier he knew that was only due to the fact that it was because he hadn’t really had any chance to recover.

 

The trail of fingers over his shoulders brought him back down and he realised a second later that he’d collapsed onto her, letting his weight pin her to the bed.

 

“Give me a second an’ I’ll move,” he murmured, waiting for his muscles to respond to his commands. She gave a small huff of laughter, but didn’t complain. When he regained some feeling he rolled, withdrawing from her, and collapsed on his back next to her. “Ye are tryin’ t’ kill me.”

 

“Now, why would I kill you? You’re no use to me if you’re dead.” She panted next to him. His laugh was breathless. They lay side by side in the quiet, recovering some mobility before she spoke again. “I need a shower.”

 

“Ye plannin’ on sharin’?” He asked, only half joking.

 

“Really? Again? You’re insatiable!” She cried, disbelief colouring her tone. Realising how she had taken his words he chuckled before interrupting.

 

“Jemma, I don’ think I could now even if I wanted too. I jus’ really need a shower as well. Save the plane’ an’ all tha’.” He pulled himself up into a sitting position, swinging his legs to the side of the bed. Catching a glimpse at the little alarm clock he groaned. “God, i’s only midnigh’.”

 

“Only?” She asked, and he heard what sounded like her back pop as the bed shifted with her movement. “Feels like it should be later than that.”

 

“Tell me abou’ i’. I though’ i’ was goin’ t’ be 4, a’ leas’.” When he stood it was on shaky legs, but after a few steps the feeling had returned. Reaching where Jemma was now mirroring his earlier position at the side of the bed he held his hands out for her. “Come on. I think a shower then more sleep soun’s like a fantastic idea.”

 

“Mmm, shower…” She sounded wistful enough that he let out a full belly laugh.

 

“I’s no’ like i’s some abstrac’ concep’!” He pulled her to her feet when she gave him her hand, wrapping an arm around her waist when she wobbled. “Alrigh’?”

 

“Yeah, fine. I think you definitely met the ‘mind blowing’ criteria there.”

 

In the en suite an interesting little dance ensued. It was a tight space, and while neither of them were large, they bumped into each other occasionally. She switched on the water while he took the used condom off and disposed of it with the last one. He let out a yawn, stretching his arms above his head, and she dug a comb from the toiletries bag on the vanity. With a hand on her waist he moved around her and tested the water temp and, satisfied that it was just right, he stepped in, taking advantage of a moment alone to rinse himself off. When a hand slid over his shoulder he turned and pulled her into his arms and under the flow, getting her hair wet.

 

“How ye feelin’, Sassenach?” He asked, keeping his voice soft and blinking away the water droplets.

 

She didn’t answer right away, tilting her head back to let the water hit her face before tugging him down for a kiss. “Beautiful.” She murmured into his shoulder.

 

His heart skipped at her words.

 

“’Bout time.” He smiled at her before moving in and kissing her gently.

 

Their shared shower followed in the same vein; their touches were thorough but more about efficiency than being sexual. By the time they were both properly clean and hair washed the water had begun to cool. Fitz got out first, allowing her a moment to herself, exiting the en suite with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a mental grumble that he was going to have to go commando on the way home – he refused to put his boxers on yet again now that he was clean – and decided that she’d already seen everything so there was nothing wrong with crawling between the sheets as he was. He left the lamp on for her, but closed his eyes. When he heard the muffled noise of a hair dryer switching on he realised she was going to take a while, so he closed his eyes and let sleep take him.

 

He was woken rather sooner than he wanted. It felt like he’d only been asleep for a second before there was something poking at his ribs.

 

“Hey Fitz. Budge over.”

 

“Mngh.” He grumbled, moving one hand to bat at the thing trying to pull him from his unconscious state.

 

“You’re taking up the whole of the bed.” Vaguely aware that the voice was coming from somewhere to his left he tried to open his eyes, failing the first few times until something began poking at his ribs again. He finally managed to keep his eyes open long enough to register that she was perched next to his hip and he wanted her next to him again. The effort it took to roll onto his side, pulling his outstretched limbs in to give her enough room to lay down. However, when she settled and left empty mattress between them he decided to take matters into his own hands.

 

“Wha’ are ye doin’ all the way over there?” He grumbled, shifting so he could reach an arm across her waist, and his weight pulled him over to rest against her, and he just went with it, nosing close enough that he could brush his lips against the skin of her throat just once before her warmth pulled him back into a deep heavy sleep.

 

*        *        *

 

The alarm blaring woke him with a jolt. For one second he panicked when he realised it wasn’t his usual alarm, and that there was a very warm, very naked body plastered against his side. He held still as he felt said body peel itself away from him and then the alarm was silenced and blessed peace fell over the room. The unfamiliar room.

 

“Morning.” Her sleep laden voice brought all the memories from the past 24 hours rushing back, and despite the crappy start, he decided that it had been one of the best days of his 26 years of life.

 

He refused to open his eyes for another few seconds, wanting to take appreciate the time to appreciate the feeling of waking up to someone. Her lips brushing against his shoulder a moment later were enough to change his mind. He slowly blinked, noticing that he wasn’t actually facing her, but let his eyes adjust to the light before turning his head.

 

“Mornin’.” The word was nearly unintelligible between his thick brogue, the usual rasp of disuse that accompanied first words after waking, and the fact that his mouth was half smooched into the pillow. He cracked one eye to see she was smiling at him, fondness shining through. “Wha’?”

 

She didn’t reply, just levered herself up slightly so she was now half lying on his back. The weight was nice… really nice. He let his eye lids slide shut again, happy to just drift back into dream land wither pining him in place, but apparently she didn’t agree.

 

“No, you’re not going back to sleep. Come on. I have to check out in an hour and a half and I would like to spend as much time as possible with you. Awake you, not asleep you.” Her words dumped a bucket of cold water over him. Checking out. Hour and a half. His eyes snapped open and he twisted his head just a little further so he could see her out the corner of his eye where she was supporting her chin on her folded hands on the back of his shoulder.

 

“Ye’re leavin’?” The words weren’t intentional, but he couldn’t help it. This was like one of those boy-meets-girl horrific rom-coms his ex had made him sit through. She sighed heavily and rolled off of him, taking the sheet with her. He propped himself up on his elbow so he could stare down at her.

 

“Yeah.” It was one word, but it was heavy enough to tell him everything he wanted to hear. She didn’t want to go.

 

“Where are ye goin’?”

 

“Fitz,” Her tone was now cautionary and it brought back everything he didn’t want to remember about who she worked for.

 

“I’s classified.” He sighed, sitting up and scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. A tentative touch on his shoulder had him looking back at her, his elbows propped on his drawn up knees.

 

“If it makes you feel better, half the time it’s not classified, it’s just that even I don’t know where I’m going.” That resulted in a raised eyebrow from him which he was sure read ‘how was that supposed to make me feel better?’. Reading his expression she gave a little huff, but elaborated. “I’m part of a mobile field unit. It’s a little unusual, S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t often have permanent field teams. Partners and maybe a group of about 4, yes. And senior agents often prefer choosing others whom they have already worked with, but there aren’t really any permanent teams. Mine is.”

 

He took a moment to mull over the information. He hadn’t expected her to actually share anything, but now that she had, he didn’t really know what to do with it. There was a part of him that was glad that she had some stability in something that was as volatile and unsure as intelligence work, but the other side hated it, because it meant that she wasn’t able to be a more permanent part of _his_ life. “Okay,” he started slowly, thinking how best to continue his questions without being shut down, “When ye say ‘mobile’, wha’ does tha’ mean?” He wanted to find out as much about this woman as possible before she disappeared.

 

“What does mobile usually mean?” She asked, raising her own eyebrow at him. Not waiting for an answer, she explained once again, “We’re not stationed out of any of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s bases. We bounce between them, depending on where we’re needed at the time.”

 

“So wha’ are ye doin’ in New York? Is the res’ of yer… team here?” He stumbled over the word ‘team’, unsure if that even fit. She’d called them a unit, but that just made him uncomfortable. It was too military.

 

“No, just me. I’m here on a conference.”

 

“A conference?” That surprised him. “SH.I.E.L.D. does somethin’ as mundane as conferences?”

 

Her laugh was light and helped his relax some more. “Yes, we do conferences. Not very often, and only occasionally in certain fields, but we have them. They’re actually rather good. You get to see and catch up with people that you haven’t seen or spoken to in a long while.”

 

“Kind of like a high school reunion. Soun’s like torture.” He sent a grin over his shoulder at her when she laughed again. “Wai’. Didn’ ye tell me yesterday tha’ yer business here was classified?” He added twisting his body so he could pin her to the bed with a playful glare.

 

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” She said, kissing her way up his arm to his shoulder, letting the sheet fall down around her waist as she did. He closed his eyes to better appreciate the small affection. When she was sitting up, pressed against him he opened his eyes again.

 

“Can I ask how many of ye on yer team?”

 

She sighed slightly and tipped her head to the side. The silence stretched and he was just about to tell her to forget about it when she spoke up. “I can’t say too much, Fitz. A lot of what I do _is_ classified. There’s 6 of us on the team. 2 senior agents, a specialist, a jack-of-all-trades type, a tech consultant and myself.”

 

“A specialis’? Jack-of-all-trades? Tha’ sounds like somethin’ from a CIA thriller movie. They as terrifyin’ as they sound?”

 

She gave another soft laugh. “The specialist can be when he wants to, but our jack-of-all-trades is actually a bit of a doofus. He’s one of the friendliest people I know.”

 

“So how did ye end up workin’ in a mobile uni’?”

 

“Honestly? I’m not entirely certain. I mean, I’m brilliant, and I’ve had a lot of experience working at different facilities on different projects, and I’m one of the younger scientists, but I’m not entirely sure _why_ I was picked.”

 

He laughed at her ‘I’m brilliant’ comment – it was something that he would say – but he didn’t doubt it in the slightest. Hearing how experienced she was wasn’t entirely unsurprising either; she would have to be if she was brilliant.

 

He glanced past her at the clock and saw that it read 8:30.

 

“I’s probably a good thin’ ye didnae le’ me go back to sleep if ‘m goin’ t’ make it t’ a certain football game.” Jack had told him earlier in the week that Ben’s game was supposed to start just after 9, and it would take him about 20 minutes to get to the host school.

 

“Do you have to leave?” She asked, not trying to cover up the disappointment in her tone.

 

“I don’ wan’ t’,” he confessed, “Bu’ I made a promise t’ a little boy and I cannae break two promises in 24 hours.”

 

Her heavy sigh made his heart clench, and he reached over and gave her a chaste kiss before kicking off the sheet and standing up. Glancing around he saw that someone – ie Jemma – had tidied up at some point. The chairs were back at the table, her packed bag was by the door, and there, on the top of the dresser, were two piled of clothes. He recognised his jumper and jeans in one and smiled. She had taken the time to fold his clothes. Unbelievable. He pulled his jeans on without his boxers, scrunching his nose at the slightly uncomfortable foreign feeling. Finding his socks tucked into his shoes he tugged them on. Another small sigh and rustling sheets made him turn back to the bed, jumper in hand.

 

She was sitting on the foot of the bed, wrapped in the sheet, holding out his wallet and watch, and looking more than a little put out. He moved over to her, crouching down so he could look her in the eye.

 

Her hazel depths were sad but her lips twisted up a little. Leaning forward he kissed her slowly, making sure not to open his mouth or deepen it – if he did he wouldn’t leave.

 

“Ye know, this isn’ how one nigh’ stands are supposed to work.”

 

She gave a small laugh, raising an eyebrow at him. “Yeah? How’s that?”

 

“Well, f’ starters, we’re no’ supposed to have spen’ almos’ the entire nigh’ sleeping.” He smirked, kissing her cheek. This laugh was stronger, but still held a sad note. “An’ i’s no’ supposed t’ be this hard to walk ou’ the door, knowin’ I’m no’ goin’ ta see ye again.”

 

This time _she_ kissed _him_ , and it was hard and desperate. He wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her to him. As suddenly as she was there she was pulling away, pushing his chest so he released her and retreating off the bed. She grabbed her pile of clothes from the dresser and he turned on his heels in time to see her duck into the en suite and the door close.

 

He screwed his eyes shut, standing and tugging on his jumper. He strapped on his watch, tucked his wallet in his pocket, and tracked down his phone. It was on the table, next to the pad with the drawing he’d made of Jemma late last night. He faltered for a second. He wanted the picture, wanted the reminder of her, of them, but he also wanted her to have it. Making his decision quickly he snapped a photo with his phone, and then picked up the pen. On the back of the paper he scrawled in his half linked script:

      

You’re beautiful.

829-716-935

 

With that done, he slipped on his shoes, tying the laces, and crossed to the door. He pulled his jacket on slowly, half hoping that she would come out the bathroom. Zipping it up he glanced at his watch. 8:45. He needed to get going. Unable to leave without at least saying goodbye, he put his hand on the bathroom door.

 

“I- I’ve got t’ head ou’. Bye, Sassenach.” The words were just loud enough that she’d be able to hear them. When he got no reply he sighed, but made himself open the door and leave.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there you have it. Let me know what you think?
> 
> I've already started playing around with thoughts of continuing this, so let me know also if that's something you think you'd be interested in?
> 
> Thanks so much!
> 
> daftmunky x


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